


Third Time's the Charm

by SundayMoon



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, M/M, POV Uchiha Itachi, Rare Pairings, Reanimation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-27
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-08-17 14:02:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 32,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8146808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SundayMoon/pseuds/SundayMoon
Summary: A fic in which Karin helps the Uchiha-Haruno clan with a different type of birth. This time, Itachi is determined to live his life for him. To guide his brother, love his village, and stay healthy in a way that's not steeped in self-destruction and self-sacrifice. Some things are easier said than done. Lucky for him, he's got a stubborn sister-in-law, an obsessive brother, and a maybe-love-life.If nothing else, there's certainly less death this time around.





	1. Prologue

Itachi is dying.

He's accepted it. Longs for it, even. He'd hoped that Sasuke would have more time, more and healthier growth before death became necessary, but leaves are vague shamrock blurs now and his lungs feel like fire more often than not. So, like Itachi so many years ago, the Uchiha brothers would simply have to be ready for pain before their time. 

Itachi shivers and allows his eyes to flicker black for just a moment as Kisame hunkers down beside his partner, “Come on, Uchiha. You know you're not supposed to be so far from the fire.”

Itachi stares, long and calm, at the blue man. Others would find it threatening, but Kisame and Itachi have been partners--each other's closest friends, although neither will admit it-- for far too long to for a look to disturb Kisame. So Kisame simply bares his teeth in a mocking smile.

Itachi does not say he paused so far from the fire because he couldn't move any further, just like Kisame doesn't offer any help. The larger man hovers all the same as Itachi slowly creaks to a stand to hobble the few steps to the warm glow of flames. They burn a comforting melody of reds and golds, a bright blur in his otherwise dark world.

“Did you take your medicine?” Kisame asks gruffly, eyes firmly locked on the small, unidentifiable animal he's roasting. (Once, they would've been more discreet. Eaten a soldier pill or two. That was before, when Itachi didn't need special attention.) Itachi breathes as deeply as he's able and flicks his eyes back to red in a silent answer. Had he not, the Sharingan likely would've drained his chakra to the point of depletion. Wit over strength had become especially important when fighting in the last months. 

Kisame’s eyes blink heavily as he nods sharply once. Itachi pretends not to hear the rough clearing of his partner’s throat, just like Kisame pretends not to panic the next morning when Itachi doesn't wake up with the sunrise, but needs three frantic shakes. 

They'd done a lot of pretending lately.

Less than a week later, Itachi bumps his fingers gently against his brother’s forehead in the only goodbye he knows how to give and closes his eyes for the last time.

It is easier than taking a breath. 

\---------------------------

Waking up hurts like hell.

Which, for two painful breaths, is where Itachi assumes he is. He murdered his entire family. Good intentions or not, that certainly qualifies for a spot in hell. 

Turns out, he's simply been reanimated. Of course. 

And, although his skin is fractured and his will is not his own, he can see once again. See in a way he hadn't known to even miss; he can see individual hairs on his reanimated companion’s heads, and apparently leaves are meant to be seen in detail rather than as a giant blob. He knew that intellectually, remembered somewhere deep down, but the knowledge had been shoved beneath a visceral pain, one that was both physical and spiritual. He's almost thankful to have this brief half-life, if only to know what sight feels like one last time.

Then his brother finds him. His foolish little brother, his most precious person, finds him just in time to join a fight to the (second) death. And Itachi is deeply ashamed, because beneath all his ire and standoffish nature, he's thankful to see the boy--man--one last time. Thankful to go to his death with his most precious person by his side. How many are lucky enough to do that? Much less twice? 

And he tries, amidst the fighting and the frustration, to give his brother some clarity. To fix the mistakes he made as a scared and manipulated child. Tries to restore some faith. 

Tries to see his brother as a man and not a boy.

So he lays his heart on his sleeve as he speaks with another human, another Uchiha, for the last time. 

He tries to proudly emit a long buried emotion. He wills himself to show love.

Dying the second time is even easier than the first. It's painless and beautiful; anticipated and welcome. And as Sasuke stares up at him, so, so bittersweet. 

\---------------------------

Waking up unexpectedly for the second time, however, is decidedly none of those things. It's rather frustrating, actually. 

\---------------------------

“Karin knows what she's doing-”

“You do too.”

“Aw, thanks Karin. We know what we're doing, mostly-”

“Definitely.”

“And, look, his body already looks alive again. His vitals are stable, coloring is good. A little malnourished, but certainly not the level I’d expect after being dead for years. So you need to calm down and trust the women in your life. Go get some sleep before I make you.”

“Sakura-”

“Don't be an idiot. I've got at least twelve poisons in this lab alone that will knock you out in worse ways than your little girlfriend.”

“Wife.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just listen to the women and shut up. Sheesh.”

\---------------------------

Itachi drifts into a vague state of comprehension for at least the third time; feels the humming of medical machines more than hears them. Unlike the first time he'd briefly felt some sort of consciousness, there aren't any voices around him. And unlike the second, he's not seized by a blinding panic that sends the quiet around him into a violent uproar.

Rather, he simply takes a moment to reacquaint himself with having a body. To remember where his toes go and that teeth have a vague there-but-not feeling. To take a breath that doesn't burn with pain or death for the first time in years. 

It's pleasant, albeit confusing. 

“Medical nin specialize in chakra observation, you know,” A voice says casually, “So that we can tell when a patient may need help more easily. It's extremely helpful when a patient is unconscious. Did you know chakra looks different when someone is unconscious?”

Itachi remains still and silent, but an unfamiliar feeling pokes at his chest...humor? He hadn't found a situation truly funny in...well, longer than he cared to remember. 

“I know this isn't the first time you've woken, although I don't know for sure how many times you have. Recovery typically goes faster when doctor and patient are honest with one another. I think now is a good time to start.”

Itachi smirks at that, although few would recognize the subtle lip movement for what it is. 

Itachi opens his eyes. 

They water at first, and squint in a rather undignified way, but there is no natural light in the room and the bulbs have clearly been dimmed for comfort. It is painful, but it could be worse.

“Don't be alarmed if you can't see for a few minutes,” the same voice soothes, “Your eyes watering is a good sign that they are reacting to stimuli correctly; they just need a little bit of time to adjust.”

The voice leans over Itachi to shine a light in his eyes, and although they water to the point of tears at the assault, the mystery person slowly solidifies into a rose haired kunoichi. 

Her eyes have faint lines they didn't before and her forehead is now adorned with a telling diamond, but it doesn't take Itachi more than half a second to identify her. Sakura Haruno was once very close with his baby brother, or as close as Sasuke let people get. Itachi would never forget her face.

“Miss Haruno,” Itachi rasps, trying valiantly to pretend that his throat is not as dry as Suna’s desert.

Sakura snorts.

“It's Uchiha now, actually. But I won't tell you that story until you drink this,” Sakura says, shoving a large glass of mystery liquid at Itachi. Although the story is obvious and clearly needs no telling, Itachi silently drinks every last drop without complaint.

Sakura watches him like a hawk all the while, gaze darting over his prone form. Although she never touches him and doesn't say a word, Itachi is positive she conducts a physical more thorough than most could with tools and touch. 

“Congratulations sister,” Itachi says as she plucks the glass from his hand, internally smiling at the way her cheeks flush to the color of her hair. 

“Thank you,” Sakura mumbles before plowing on, clearly pleased but embarrassed, “I'm sure you have a lot of questions, but I probably don't know how to answer them all. I can tell you that you were not brought back by the same jutsu as before, and this is your true body with your own will attached. And I can tell you that you died for the second time four years ago. We're in one of Orochimaru's old hideouts with someone Sasuke and I trust.” 

Sakura’s brows pinch as she finishes, her persona half accomplished doctor and half worried sister-in-law.

Itachi really only ever had one question, and yet it's the one she managed to not answer. 

“Where is my little brother?” 

“Here, aniki.”

Itachi rotates his neck and goes up on an elbow with all the force of a notched arrow. His body aches as he faces his brother, but he barely notices. Because Sasuke--foolish, impossible Sasuke--is standing in front of him. Sasuke's hair is a little longer and his face a bit more deep set than it was the last time they met, but he looks healthy. He looks…sad. He's crying.

“Otouto,” Itachi says sharply, forgetting for one moment that he is the one in a hospital bed and Sasuke is a grown man, “What is wrong?”

Sasuke laughs wetly, “Not a damn thing.” 

Sakura makes a wounded sound deep in her chest, darts to pepper a kiss on Sasuke's cheek. The younger Uchiha doesn't resist; he leans into his wife's touch. Itachi allows himself to settle back against his pillows as the scene solidifies: his little brother hadn't accepted affection since he was a child. The scene before him now is different. Amazing.

Sakura squeezes her husband’s hand, shoots one last fleeting look at Itachi, and leaves the hospital room. But not before unsubtly shoving her husband towards his brother.

Itachi thinks he quite likes her.

“Aniki,” Sasuke says awkwardly, inching closer to the bed. Itachi grins internally.

“Yes, Sasuke?”

“How was...do you...how are you feeling?” 

“Alive,” Itachi says wryly, steadily meeting his brother's eyes in a silent usher forward. The younger Uchiha complies, stops just at the edge of Itachi’s reach. For the first time in his newest life, Itachi smiles a genuine visible smile. Sasuke falls to his knees, his face just inches from Itachi’s.

“She did it,” Sasuke breathes, eyes locked with his brother’s, “She really fucking did it.”

“It seems the newest Uchiha may be the greatest genius of us all,” Itachi agrees, still smiling as he pulls his brother’s forward forehead to rest against his.

Although neither brother will ever admit it, quite a few tears fall on the ground between them.


	2. Chapter 2

_ SIx Months Later _

Itachi sips at the unpleasant medical tea Sakura still insists he drinks every morning, mouth curling disdainfully at the powdered texture mixed with the acidic taste. But he drinks it all the same: Sakura always gives him a pleased smile when he brings her his empty cup, which in turn causes Sasuke to abandon his typical surely expression (no so typical nowadays, actually) to regard them both fondly. So Itachi sips.   
  
Karin plops a mess of something that's probably supposed to be breakfast in front of him, sloshing a bit of tea of Itachi’s tunic in the process. He signs internally as she gives him a feral grin.   
  
"Oops," Karin says cheerfully, cackling--honest to gods cackling--as she whips back around to the stove she’d abandoned. He and the Uzumaki (she doesn't broadcast her heritage, be he's always known that flame-ridden hair and firey attitude can belong to no one else) are friends, although neither are emotionally stable enough to express that well. She is the chemical genius to Sakura’s medical prowess that brought him back to life after all, and there aren't many other individuals for Karin to bond with in her own self-imposed exile. So Karin cackles and Itachi allows tea to slosh on him, and they both pretend they don't desperately seek out the others company.    
  
"How is my little sister this morning?" Itachi asks, gravely wiping the tea from where it spilled.    
  
Karin narrows her eyes, "Why? My breakfast not good enough for you?"   
  
"I am simply inquiring about her health," Itachi lies smoothly, warily eying the goop in front of him, "I've heard pregnancy can be quite taxing." He pointedly does not think of when he used to soothingly rub his own mother’s stomach, little hands pudgy and eager to comfort.   
  
"Yeah, she's been puking her guts up," Karin says almost gleefully.    
  
"Morning sickness. That should've ended with the first trimester," Itachi says knowingly, more to himself that Karin. She hears anyway and whirls with a shit-eating grin.    
  
"You've been reading those pregnancy books Sakura-chan tried to give Sasuke!" Karin accuses, this time definitely gleefully.    
  
Itachi's cheeks suddenly match his eyes.    
  
"Stop that," Karin teases, waving her ladle at him, "You’re not scary and Sakura-chan will get mad you're using your Sharingan without her supervision."   
  
Mad is an understatement. Although he feels fine, better than he has since he was of average genin age, his newest sibling is intent on carefully and painstakingly watching his every movement, especially when it comes to his kekkei genkei.  Sakura claims it is what she would do for any patient who was near death (much less raised from the dead), but he wasn't labeled a genius flippantly. He knows it’s because Sasuke is terrified his disease would come back. So far, despite Sakura’s extensive testing, nothing within Itachi seems damaged. Well, nothing physical.

"I have been a shinobi since before either of you were walking," Itachi says regally, proving his words by using his rather extensive knowledge to run through a dozen ways to get rid of Karin’s food without eating it or alerting her to his abandonment. Unfortunately, at least half of them involve a genjutsu, and all occupants of the hideout will be furious if he even tries that.    
  
"Do you want to say that to the overly hormonal baby maker or should I?" Karin asks wryly, deftly swapping Itachi’s plate for a piece of fruit without a word.    
  
Itachi bites into the sweetness with a happy eye crease. He can't even find it within himself to be worried that the redhead saw through him so easily; the companionship is far too welcome for that.   
  
Karin rolls her eyes in response and dumps her own plate out in the trash, "Pinkey needs to get better ASAP. I forgot how much I suck at cooking."   
  
"You've got four months to wait," Itachi reminds her.   
  
"And you know more about this pregnancy than the mother," Karin teases.   
  
"I don't know about that," A voice interrupts before the form comes into sight, "I am a medical nin."   
  
Itachi smiles with his full face this time, a look reserved for only his siblings. Sakura walks into the kitchen, steps just starting to take on a waddle-like quality, her husband trailing her like a particularly aggressive duckling.    
  
"One who has surpassed Tsunade-hime," Itachi teases softly. His tone barely changes, but Sakura knows him, knows both naturally born Uchiha's bodies and souls perhaps better than they do at this point, so she laughs cheerfully where others would become uncomfortable.    
  
"Shishou would have something to say about that," Sakura teases back, pointedly maiming a punch.    
  
"She would agree," Sasuke says confidently, easing his wife into a chair although she certainly doesn't need the help. Sakura flushes to the roots of her hair.

“She loves when they call you Tsunade Nigo,” Sasuke continues, reaching for the tea pot near Itachi. The blend of vitamins and nutrients that have become Itachi’s hell have recently also become Sakura’s. He can’t help but fill a bit vindicated that the one who so heavily mothers him is now being fretted over herself. The pinkette valiantly pretends to not wrinkle her nose at the concoction her husband pours her.

“Thank you, Sasuke,” Sakura says politely, just like every morning. And just like every morning, Sasuke grunts an intelligible noise as he beams at her happily. 

Itachi feels his whole body soften at their affection for one another. He practically melts as he looks over the curve in Sakura’s stomach, only a barely-there bump that could easily be mistaken for a trick of the light underneath the billowing shirt she's taken to wearing around the hideout. 

Sakura gasps and settles her cup down roughly, eagerly reaching for her stomach. Sasuke stands and activates his Sharingan so quickly he knocks over his chair, but Itachi just continues to smile.

“Foolish Otouto,” Itachi teases over Sakura and Karin’s mingled giggles, “Is the newest Uchiha’s kick really so threatening?”

Sasuke drops to his knees and rests his own hand over his wife's, voice filled with wonder, “It moved?” 

“You really should read one of those books,” Karin snips, lightly bumping Sasuke on the back of his head, “Use that brain of yours.”

Sasuke shoots Karin a brief betrayed look, barely long enough to even connect, before he's back to staring at his wife's clothed stomach. 

“You should and he did,” Sakura confirms, guiding her husband’s hand to the right spot, “Feel here.”

“She is quite energetic,” Itachi says, pointedly beginning their gender argument once again. Sasuke had taken to calling the baby “it” in an attempt to quiet the stubborn individuals. He may as well have been trying to move a mountain. 

“Yes, he is very strong,” Sakura sniffs, but her eyes twinkle.

“Just like her mother,” Itachi says, smiling visibly again.

Sakura stares at him for a long moment and purses her lips, “Fine. You win today. But don't think this is over.”

Sasuke laughs--genuinely, out loud laughs--and Itachi can't remember ever being happier. 

\---------------

He should've known that their new quiet life couldn't last much longer.

The shrill ring of the telephone Sakura had made Sasuke install when she found out about her pregnancy breaks the careful silence of the hideout more days than not lately. Sasuke has assured Itachi it's only because Naruto has officially been named the Nanadaime Hokage (although Kakashi will remain in office for some years to come) and gained access to all the confidential phone lines. Including theirs.

Sakura was overjoyed to hear from Naruto, Sasuke was exasperated, and Karin and Itachi rotated between vague second-hand happiness for their loved ones and intense frustration at the blond's uncanny ability to create conflict without even being present.

To be fair, he also solved a fair amount of conflict. But moments like this one make Itachi conveniently forget the positive aspects of Konoha's most unpredictable ninja.

“This” being the angry rumble in Sasuke's chest and the slammed door of the hideout’s library. Itachi looks up, the glasses he maybe-needs-maybe-not falling to the top of his nose as he pointedly raises one eyebrow at his brother.

Sasuke fumes.

“The Dobe,” Sasuke growls, “Is a father.”

Itachi sighs and closes his book. This is going to be a complicated one.

“And that upsets you?”

Sasuke's face does an oddly accurate imitation of a constipated child, “No.”

“That...pleases you?” Itachi tries again. All his genius doesn't help him with Sasuke at times. Although they've reconnected in the past months, he missed far too much of his brother's life to still possess the intuitive knowledge he used to have. He’s constantly thankful he has the chance to reconnect with his brother at all.

“Yes.”

“As it should,” Itachi says, “Why the darkness then, Otouto?”

Sasuke's face continues to consort and twist until it looks very much like it did when he was a tiny spiky haired toddler about to throw a fit, “We're not there,” Sasuke says petulantly, breaking Itachi’s heart into a thousand pieces in the process.

Thank gods Sasuke is too emotionally constipated to use Itachi’s softness to its full advantage; Itachi can’t resist his little brother, adult or no.

“You could be,” Itachi says carefully, eyes firmly fixed on his brother’s, "You should raise your child with your teammate's". He tries to ooze comfort and confidence, but he probably looks as confused as he feels.

“But you wouldn't be there.” Which is….technically true, now. But that doesn’t mean be couldn’t be someday.

“Aren't I a war hero?” Itachi asks wryly, “I was under the impression that meant that I can return to Konoha if I wish.”

“Yes,” Sasuke says, even more petulantly than before, “But I wouldn't ask you to.”

Itachi takes in the tense set to Sasuke's shoulders, the still-might-have-a-tantrum expression, and the silence of the rest of the base. It's as if Karin and Sakura are listening from the walls with bated breath.

Itachi feels his eyes must be comically wide as he already regrets his uttered, “I'm offering.”

The squeal Sakura gives that night when Sasuke asks if she'd like to go home makes the regret fade by at least half. 

Itachi should've realized long before now that they weren't staying away from Konoha for Sasuke's sake but his. But it’s been many years since anyone cared for him enough to change the way they live their life, and the realization is as foreign as it is pleasant. The last person--the only, maybe--who had taken his happiness into such consideration was his mother. 

Itachi may love this quiet life, enjoy bickering with Karen and reading for pleasure, but he's always known it wouldn't last forever. Even after death, he still has a responsibility. Technically, he is no longer a shinobi, but he is still a brother, now twice over. And he will always have a responsibility to his family. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First actual chapter's pretty short as a set-up, but I'll update soon :)
> 
> As always, love me some reviews


	3. Chapter 3

Itachi meets Kakashi’s stare head on, pointedly keeping his black eyes steady. He’s even worn his reading glasses in an attempt to make himself look less threatening; if Kakashi’s amused fake-intimidating countenance is anything to go by, he knows exactly what Itachi is doing and is getting no small amount of joy out of seeing his subordinates struggle around Itachi. Some glare, some stare curiously, and many more (including Kakashi’s Anbu Guards) alternate between reflexively tensing their muscles and consciously trying to appear like they trust him. The whole of Konoha is confused on how to handle him. Admittedly, it’s not every day that a clan murderer is declared a hero.

“Itachi Uchiha,” Kakashi begins. He pauses for a long moment, as if saying someone’s name and nothing else is perfectly normal. Itachi feels a headache coming on.

“Hokage-sama,” He says politely, eyes daring Kakashi to go further with his little prank. It reminds Itachi very much of his time spent under Kakashi in Anbu: the silver-haired man has always been an interesting conundrum of humor, social awkwardness, and deadly grace. Kakashi full-out smirks, and Itachi knows he’s remembering the same thing, remembering a solemn little boy who called him “Taichou” as easily as he activated his Sharingan.

“No need for such formalities,” Kakashi teases, “After all, we’ve seen each other naked.” One of the Anbu falls past the window, shocked from his perch. Itachi audibly sighs. 

Somehow, Itachi had forgotten how utterly annoying Kakashi is. 

Itachi decides someone better be the adult in this situation (and he’s beginning to feel a bit nervous about what he wants to say), so he plows forward with the apology he’s been plotting since he found out he was returning to Konoha. Most of his guilt is reserved for Sasuke, but he has a healthy amount invested in Kakashi. He deeply regrets trapping his once-friend in Tsukuyomi; knows how mental scars take much longer to fade than physical. 

So Itachi begins with a memory, “Kakashi-taichou, I want to formerly and deeply apologize for-”

“None of that,” Kakashi says sharply, all traces of humor gone. Itachi immediately snaps his jaw shut, startled. Barely contained killing intent buzzes around Hokage Tower, the Anbu guards immediately snapping to attention at their Hokage’s tone.

Itachi is lost. It is an increasingly common feeling for him, and as a lifelong genius, he can firmly and confidently say he hates it.

“No apologies,” Kakashi says, more softly this time, “At least not from you. Least of all to me. Kohona owes you a great debt; one that we can never properly repay. You lost your clan, your future, and your home for the sake of your village. You have given us all there is to give, and the generations to come will know of your sacrifices.”

Itachi’s chest tightens but he keeps his face perfectly neutral as he digests his old friend’s words. Internally, he smiles. Kakashi has grown. He is every bit a grand Hokage in this moment, comforting and commanding with his words and his inflection. It is inspiring to know that the lost and broken child soldiers of the Hidden Leaf can become something so great.

“Thank you, Taichou,” Itachi finally whispers. The room is still buzzing with energy, but it’s much less hostile now. It tastes of strong emotions: regret, wonder, guilt.

“Ma, don’t mention it,” Kakashi says with a signature eye-crinkle. The other man has switched back to his playful persona, the regal Hokage locked away once more, “But I meant every word.”

Itachi finally looks away from his Hokage, his (maybe again) friend and former captain. He loves his brother and sisters (for he now privately thinks of Karin as a sister as well), loved his partner in his own way, but he hasn’t allowed himself to feel affection for anyone else in years. It settles, odd but warm, in the pit of his stomach.

“Now, where’s Iruka?” Kakashi asks thin air. No one replies, although there are at least half a dozen ears trained on the room, “Iruka-sensei!” Kakashi bellows, “Are you here?”

“What have I told you about yelling in the tower?” An exasperated voice bellows back. Footsteps pound up the staircase behind Itachi, and a clearly frustrated man with a rather vivid facial scar pops out seconds later. He glares at Kakashi for half a breath before turning bright red under Itachi’s considering gaze. 

“Uchiha-sama,” Iruka stutters, “I apologize. I did not know Ka-- Hokage-sama had a guest.” The stink eye the brunette sends Kakashi makes it very clear just whose fault he thinks that oversight is. Kakashi’s eye crinkle stays firmly in place, his mirth nearly palpable.

Itachi is too busy blanching at the ‘sama’ Iruka had tacked onto his name to answer politely. 

“Iruka,” Kakashi says, “What was I supposed to discuss with Itachi again?” A vein in the brunette’s forehead visibly pulses.

“Clan inheritance and shinobi status,” Iruka says through gritted teeth. 

Kakashi clearly doesn’t value his own life, because instead of thanking the man and moving on, he says, “Ah, village politics. I’m sure you understand that better than I do. Perhaps you can discuss it with Itachi?” and poofs out of existence. 

The pure killing intent that radiates from the man is impressive considering he’s clearly only a Chuunin. Equally as impressive, and sadly telling, is the way that no Anbu seem concerned with the proceedings. Itachi can guess at how often Kakashi sends Iruka into a fit of rage; there aren’t enough Anbu in the world to respond that frequently. 

With a growl that is fierce enough to belong to the Kyuubi, Iruka turns towards Itachi and plasters on a well-practiced smile, “Itachi-sama, I apologize for Hokage-sama’s rudeness.”

“I am sure he had something important to attend to. Please, call me Itachi,” The ebony haired man says smoothly, finally pulling his deeply ingrained social graces forward. They are long buried and all but forgotten, but finely honed from years of being a major clan’s heir.

“Itachi,” Iruka says, much warmer than before, “I have a few administrative matters to discuss with you, if you have the time.”

“Of course, Iruka-sensei.”

Iruka flushes, this time in embarrassment rather than anger, “Iruka is fine. I have not been a teacher for a few years now.”

“You were my brother’s,” Itachi says simply, “And I thank you for helping form him into who he is today.”

Iruka has apparently forgotten the missing-nin part of his former student’s life, because he all but bursts with pride when he says, “I have always hoped that my students find happiness, above all else. So I would like to thank you in turn for the joy you have helped bring Sasuke, Sakura, and Naruto.”

Itachi wants to dispute the teacher, wants to remind everyone what physical and psychological hell he once put Team Seven through, but he is tired and he feels older than his years, so he simply dips his head in a thankful half-bow.

“What is it you wish to discuss with me, Iruka-sensei?” Itachi asks politely. 

“Right, well. The first is a small issue of inheritance,” Iruka says, “You are, of course, entitled to the entirety of the Uchiha Clan estate. You are welcome to utilize the compound or funds however you wish. Your brother has the same clearance, although he has not yet chosen to access it.” Iruka clears his throat uncomfortably, and Itachi beings to get the feeling, honed from years of being an S-class shinobi, that he is about the hear something he won’t like. “You are also, technically, now the head of the Uchiha Clan,” Iruka says.

Itachi’s world flips on its head as he fights the urge to break into hysterical laughter.

He is the Clan Head. He, who murdered nearly all the Uchiha and emotionally scared the only legitimate survivor, is the Clan Head.

Sure, as a child he’d always assumed he one day would be. He’d been groomed for it from the start. But that assumption had died along with his father; the world of clan heads and village politics buried deeply beneath crimson clouds.

“The Uchiha have not utilized their seat on the Hokage’s council for many years,” Iruka continues hesitantly, “But you are welcome to do so. You have the full rights of any Clan Head, from marriage officiation to political input.”

Itachi knows he is staring, knows he probably looks anything but composed, but he can’t help it.

“What about Sasuke?” Itachi finally croaks. Surely Sasuke, whose former teacher is the current Hokage and best friend is the future, is more suited to the responsibilities than him.

“If you formally denounce your seat, Sasuke will become Clan Head,” Iruka says. Itachi opens his mouth to encourage just that, but Iruka plows on, “But I would advise against it. You have seen the village and world as no other. You know Konoha's flaws and love her despite them, while your brother is still learning what it means to have a fallible village. Your input on the Council would be unique and invaluable.”

Itachi will give it to the tiny Chuunin: he has a steel will. And, unfortunately, a point.

“I will consider it,” Itachi aquiests. 

“I am confident you will make the right decision,” Iruka says, somehow not coming off as offensive even as he shamelessly guilts Itachi like one of his errant Academy students. Yes, Itachi thinks again, he is certainly a brave one.

“One last thing before you go,” Iruka says, “In regards to Shinobi status, you have been reinstated as a Jounin of Konoha and marked as retired. If you wish to return to active duty you may, after a discussion with the Hokage. You are still, of course, entitled to all the benefits that come with being a Jounin, active or not.”

Itachi is struck speechless, and is supremely embarrassed to note that his throat is choked up. He didn’t know until this moment, until he heard Iruka utter those words, how much he longed to still be a Konoha shinobi. To be considered a true comrade in arms again, and not just a former criminal turned maybe hero.

Despite the fact that they don’t know each other at all, Iruka easily reads Itachi’s internal struggle for what it is. He dealt with emotionally stunted shinobi children for many years, after all. 

“The Hokage does not expect an answer right away,” Iruka says gently, “And he is comfortable allowing you to change your status tomorrow, many years down the road, or never again.”

Iruka smiles at him, radiates a comfort that clearly made him an invaluable teacher, and bestows one last gift, “When you are ready, your brother has your new hiate.”

An incredible teacher indeed.

\--------------------------

“You’re so sexy,” Sakura purrs. Sasuke’s eye twitches and Itachi lowly chuckles as the female Uchiha strokes one of the many medical machines in Konoha's rehabilitation ward, “I missed you so much.”

“Can we please get back to Aniki?” Sasuke huffs. Sakura’s hands twitch, briefly forming into a fist, before she apparently decides to ignore her husband.

“You’d never stall on me, would you?” Sakura coos, “Not like those pesky machines in that awful hideout.”

“Sakura,” Sasuke pleads, resting a hand lightly on her lower back.

With one last caress Sakura turns from the machine to her husband, face firmly fixed in an enchanting pout, “But Shishou won’t let me in the hospital except to help with Itachi-nii. I haven’t gotten to bond with the newest equipment yet.”

Sasuke’s resolve crumbles and he nods along with his wife’s words, eyes fixed firmly on her lips. It’s as pathetic as it is sweet.

“That’s because you’re six months pregnant with an Uchiha baby who drains unpractical amounts of chakra,” Itachi reminds his sister, unsympathetic.

Sakura crosses her arms over her stomach, the dome now large enough to rest on, if only just, “Who is the medical professional here? I know what I am capable of.”

“Stop whining,” Tsunade booms from the doorway, “Enjoy the time off for us both. I can handle the hospital.”

Itachi and Sasuke respectfully straighten for the Sannin, but Sakura just slouches and pouts more, “I can’t drink or fight, Shishou.”

“There are safer ways to have fun,” Tsunade reminds her student, leering at Sasuke. The man looks toward between encouraging the perverted train of thought and running full speed from the room.

Itachi deigns to save him, “Tsunade-sama, does everything seem to be in order?”

“Yeah, brat,” He’d been firmly assured that Tsunade reserves insulting nicknames for people she truly likes, so he lets the tone and words pass him over like a steady breeze, “Nothing out of the ordinary that I can see. Your disease seems to be gone. I recommend you come in for monthly check-ups for at least a year, just in case, but if your primary doctor agrees, you’re cleared for vigorous activity.”

Itachi raises an eyebrow at Sakura. The other girl is the only medical ninja in the world that Tsunade would utter any sort of genuine deference to, and everyone but the pinkette knows it.

“Yeah, yeah. You know I agree with your diagnosis, Shishou,” Sakura grumbles, looking longingly around the hospital room, “Maybe I should stay to help with some paperwork? There has to be paperwork.”

“Sakura,” Sasuke says, “We all know you wouldn't be able to resist helping someone. It's why I fell in love with you. Please don't insult us by assuming we don't know you well enough to know that.”

Well, perhaps his baby brother knows how to persuade his wife as well as she can persuade him. The pinkette considers her husband, cheeks flushed but expression still determined.

“Let's go home,” Sasuke cajoles, linking his fingers with Sakura’s, “I'll rub your ankles.” 

Sakura perks up and bounces on the ball of her feet, “We can talk about baby names!” 

Sasuke makes a vague humming noise, gently guiding his excited wife out the door. Tsunade snickers and waves at her student, who's too absorbed to notice she's being made fun of. 

“Ah, young love,” Tsunade says mockingly, but her eyes are wistful. 

“Is there anything else I should know, Tsunade-sama?” Itachi asks, recognizing his longing in another. Sometimes we need help escaping from our own minds. 

“Not much, brat. If your eyes bleed, or hurt at all, tell Sakura. If you feel unusually tired, tell Sakura. If you have trouble breathing, tell Sakura. Basically, if you don't feel like you could run up a mountain dodging shuriken, tell Sakura.”

“So I'm cleared to train?” Tsunade's eyes narrow minutely before smoothing out, not doubt an involuntary reaction to Itachi Uchiha training in her village. He can't say he blames her.

“As long as you don't strain yourself, yes, you're cleared to train.”

Itachi thanks her and makes a hasty retreat, Tsunade's melancholy a dangerous companion for his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews encourage updates :)


	4. Chapter 4

Although he specifically asked Tsunade for her clearance, Itachi doesn’t make any move to train in the next weeks. Instead, he spends time reacquainting himself with his birth village and its inhabitants. 

Which may sound relaxing and pleasant, but the truth is, his free time mostly consists of being harassed by Sasuke’s year-mates. At least he’s not alone; neither Uchiha brother is thrilled with the attention, but both endure the constant stream of guests because they make Sakura happy. She has them wrapped around her finger and they both know it. Itachi is starting to hope the baby actually is a boy, if only so he can keep some sort of clout around the village.

Sasuke’s own terrifying persona had been officially halved when Kiba overheard him cooing to Sakura’s belly a few weeks before: the whole village knew within hours.

Perhaps fortunately, his own intimidating presence had been greatly diminished (at least amongst his sibling’s circle) early on in the month. Shikamaru and Ino had visited with their newborns, towing Choji’s four-month-old daughter along. With only two sets of arms between them, someone had needed to hold little Chocho before too long. Itachi had volunteered automatically, voice leaping ahead of his brain. He’d taken one look at the cherubic little girl and been enamored; babies had always been his weakness.

Shikamaru watched him warily the whole time he held the baby girl, but Ino happily chattered away at him after only one shared glance with Sakura. It hurt his heart a little to see them silently communicate so easily; he used to have that deep connection with one of his cousins, although thankfully he was not responsible for Shisui's death. 

Regardless of internalized reactions such as Shikamaru’s, apparently the year-mates dubbed the Konoha Twelve took his brief lapse in judgment as an invitation to trust their children upon him. More specifically, Naruto and Hinata definitely did. 

Which is how Itachi finds himself gently bouncing Boruto for the third time in as many weeks. The duo are comfortably warm inside as they watch snowfall blanket Kohina in sparkling whiteness, the four individuals who are actually parents (or soon to be parents) too busy throwing snowballs at one another to mind the little boy. Boruto is three months old now, finally alert enough to stay awake for more than minutes at a time, and his bluejay eyes are endearingly enraptured by the rare scene. Although, it's likely the vague moving colors of his parents he finds interesting more than the snowfall; according to one of Sakura’s parenting books, babies can't see in much detail at three months.

Itachi berates himself for the thought and warily looks around the room, even though he knows it’s empty. Thank gods Karin isn't here; she'd never let him live this baby obsession down. 

But since he is alone, and Boruto’s weight in his arms is more comforting than not, Itachi allows himself to savor the moment; to watch his siblings behave like the young adults they are, and enjoy the feeling of family that seems to permeate Kohona. 

Itachi considers bellowing at the young adults to move somewhere else when they start using jutsu: the tree Sasuke fries has been on the Uchiha grounds for generations. But he takes in the desolate houses on the grounds, still plenty spaced apart even though neither brother chose to live in the Clan Head’s house (instead, they chose two structures with a garden between them. Sakura had already promised her husband she'd plant tomatoes as soon as spring arrives. Most importantly, Itachi didn't kill anyone in either of the houses.), and decides the empty grounds can use a bit of redecorating. Can use some happy destruction. 

So he keeps his mouth shut and watches, a smile half-tugging on the corner of his mouth as Boruto abandons wondering for sleeping. A patch of drool may be soaking into his collar, but the trusting breaths against Itachi's’ neck are more than worth it.

Itachi chuckles quietly to himself as Naruto full-on tackles Sasuke to the ground, and the two fall in a tangle of limbs on the desolate hardness Sasuke’s fireball burned. Hinata clasps her hands and starts forward to stop them, but Sakura leans her pregnant form against the blue haired kunoichi and cackles. Itachi can't hear what she says from his distance, but if Hinata’s blush is anything to go by, it was probably as lecherous as a comment made by her famous sensei would be. 

A polite knock on the married couple’s front door jolts Itachi out of his reverie. Normally he'd avoid answering, both because it isn't his home and because he has to mentally prepare himself for average citizens, but the buffoons are still outside rolling around (or laughing), and it's so rare that a group as powerful as they get to behave like children, so Itachi only hesitates for one more knock before going to greet his siblings’ guest. 

Itachi swings open the front door to reveal a rather brightly dressed man with a blinding smile, “Sasu-!” The man stutters and stops, but his smile doesn't even twitch.

“Can I help you?” Itachi asks politely, if warily. On his shoulder, Boruto snorts softly, like an anxiously dreaming puppy. 

The man blinks owlishly, “I apologize! I must have heard Ino-chan’s directions incorrectly and come to the wrong house.” The man continues to beam, as if an ex-missing nin didn't just answer his friend’s door holding a snoozing child. 

“If you are looking for Sasuke and Sakura, you have found the right home,” Itachi says awkwardly. It's not often that people react so...enthusiastically to him. Well, positively enthusiastic, anyway. 

“Oh, good! Are they home?” Itachi begins to wonder if the man is a bit touched in the head; he looks vaguely familiar, so he's likely a shinobi. It’s likely they’ve fought before, even if indirectly. He must recognize Itachi. 

“Yes, they are in the back with Naruto and Hinata,” Itachi says, warily eyeing the man. He does have a bowl cut. That doesn't bode well for the man’s sanity. 

“Oh, then this must be Boruto-kun!” The man exclaims, reaching eagerly for the baby on Itachi’s shoulder. Itachi's eyes blink red before he even registers the other man’s movement consciously, and he's halfway across the room before the strange man can blink. 

The cheery persona dims slightly and the man holds his hands in front of him, “I did not mean to startle you,” He says evenly, “My name is Lee; I have been friends with Naruto for many years. I would never harm Boruto.”

Naruto crashes through Sakura and Sasuke’s screen door--no doubt responding to the spike in chakra--leaving a man-sized hole behind him, “Is Boruto okay?” He asks frantically over Sasuke's frustrated, “Dobe!” 

Itachi silently offers Naruto his baby, eyes still locked firmly on Lee. The blond snatches his son and cuddles him to his chest as he surveys the scene, “Oh, hey Lee! When did you get back?”

“Just this morning,” Lee answers, voice as cheerful as before but eyes shinobi-wary.

“Lee is a friend, Itachi-nee,” Sakura says firmly from behind him, resting her hand soothingly in between Itachi’s shoulder blades. Itachi allows his eyes to fade at her words.

“Thank you for protecting Boruto,” Hinata says quietly as she shuts the now-ruined door behind her. Her eyes are soft as her husband introduces his friend to their son, “I am glad to know you would keep him safe.”

“With my life,” Itachi promises solemnly. Hinata stares at him, clearly startled, before smiling shyly and giving a thankful bow. 

“Sap,” Sakura teases as the other kunoichi goes to join her husband and son. Lee tickles the tiny blond on his belly, and the responding giggle he's just recently learned to make melts every adult in the room. Sakura rubs her belly, now twice her former width at nearly eight months, and leans against Itachi.

No matter how many times she does it, he is still both startled and warmed by her easy affection.

“Not long now, first borns are often early,” Itachi murmurs to his sister. 

Sakura giggles and rubs her cheek into his shoulder, “Think you can convince your brother to read as many books as you do?”

“Are you averse to blackmail?” Itachi asks dryly, allowing his own arm to rest lightly around her. 

“Oh, never,” The pinkette gasps, mirth coloring her tone, “I love blackmail.” 

“I don't like this,” Sasuke says, suddenly beside them, “I know I don't like this.” Sasuke waves his lone hand over their forms, as if to encompass all the mischievousness they often get up to together. 

Itachi focuses on looking bored, but Sakura takes a different approach. She juts out her lip and flutters her lashes enchantingly, “Don't you worry your pretty little head about us.” 

Itachi gives an amused huff at the couple’s interaction: Sasuke really can't muster a deadly glare when it comes to his wife. Sakura knows it too; she winks at her husband and waddles off while he's still trying. 

“Foolish Otouto,” Itachi murmurs, rapping his shoulder lightly against his brothers, “She wants you to follow her.” Sasuke valiantly pretends not to flush and hurries after his wife obediently, as if he weren't getting relationship advice from someone who's never been in one himself. Well, never a healthy one.

Itachi watches them go fondly; savors the fan on both their backs as it disappears behind a wall. Naruto and Hinata follow behind them with Boruto, and although the blond waves for Lee to join them as well, he murmurs some excuse. 

Itachi feels the man approach, knows what he is coming for, but waits for Lee to speak first. 

“Uchiha-san,” Lee says, and his voice sounds strained in a way it hadn't even when Itachi was glaring Sharingan-red. For some reason, it makes Itachi unhappy to hear the discomfort in such a cheerful person. There should be persons who can remain positive no matter what. Accordingly, Itachi cuts Lee off before he can continue. 

“Call me Itachi. I apologize for my behavior earlier.”

Lee’s mouth curls, confused, for half a beat, before the other man makes a conscious decision to accept Itachi’s words at their face value. Itachi wonders if others can see the subtle cues in the man’s intelligent eyes, or if they think his cheerful persona is as ignorant as it seems.

“No apologies necessary, Itachi-san! You were most youthful in your defense of Boruto-kun! You have inspired me to train harder. I would be honored if you would spar with me, so that I can improve my own fighting spirit!”

Lee asks for a fight like he's no doubt done to a hundred people a thousand times, like sparring with someone is a sign of respect or friendship. He doesn't ask like he's afraid of the ex-missing nin, or like he wants to test his clout against an S-class shinobi. Lee asks because it's the friendly thing to do, like civilians who go out to coffee, and he genuinely enjoys training.

No one has approached Itachi about fighting so innocently since he lived in Konoha...before. Even then, people typically offered because he was the Clan Heir and a genius; because they wanted to prove something or felt they were obligated to ask. 

Itachi doesn’t know if anyone has ever wanted to spar with him just for the sake of it.

So Itachi says yes. Agrees on a time and place, and doesn't stop to think that he hasn't even trained with anyone in years, not since before his first death.

As Lee cheerfully bounces into the kitchen to join his friends, discomfort forgotten, Itachi can't find it within himself to regret his agreement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a telling-not-showing chapter, but we need a little transition sometimes :)
> 
> Thanks to LadyEkatherina, matchynishi, and Bookaholic346 for their reviews!


	5. Chapter 5

Itachi has avoided using a sword since his days in the clan, the weapon he once loved tainted with spilled blood. 

But he wants to train by himself at least once before sparring Lee, wants to reacquaint himself with his body--from his no-longer-colored-nails down to sinew and bone--before going up against another shinobi. 

(His genjutsu will come to him as easily as a cloud to water, he knows, but taijutsu has never been his area of expertise. And according to a thrilled Sakura, Lee is a master.)

So Itachi dances with his sword. It feels like a penance to relearn his Katana’s before any other skill; to usher forward long-buried drills on the soil where he first learned them. 

Although he knows Sakura is watching him, her eight-months-pregnant form far from subtle, she does not disturb him. Likely on his wife’s insistence, when Sasuke gets home, he does nothing more than invite Itachi over for dinner. Neither of them ask if he wants a training partner, and for that, Itachi is inexplicably grateful. This rediscovery feels like something he needs to do himself. 

For five days he follows the same pattern: wakes up with the dawn to do drills, trains until Sakura calls him inside for lunch, pitters around the house helping her with chores until dinner, then trains again until he falls into bed, muscles pleasantly aching in a once-forgotten way.

On the sixth day, Itachi wakes before sunrise. He packs himself a bento from his own sparse kitchen (Sakura cooks with all the passion of a pregnant woman; he rarely eats at home), and heads towards Training Ground Fourteen just as light begins to peek over the horizon. It’s not yet seven o’clock, and he has a solid hour before he and Lee’s agreed meeting time, but he’s always liked to arrive early. He wants some time to reacquaint himself with Konoha's sparing grounds before he uses them. 

So he leaps over rooftops and around buildings he’s seen a thousand times and tries to convince himself he’s not in a dream. He hasn’t spent time in this part of Konoha since his rebirth, and its familiar in a beloved lullaby sort of way. He’s a bit taller than he was the last time he traveled this path, and the shopkeeper's stories below him are a bit older, but it’s still his Konoha all the same.

Surprisingly, when he finally arrives at Training Ground Fourteen, it’s already occupied. Lee must know Itachi is there--he’s a Jounin and the training grounds are sparsely populated--but Lee doesn’t acknowledge the oldest Uchiha between push-ups. He just keeps counting, through the eight-hundreds and the nine, while Itachi carefully circles the training ground. Although Itachi’s meant to be looking at the earth around him--finding its weaknesses and its tells--he can’t help but stray towards the man in its center. The man who would train before a battle with an S-class shinobi, friendly or not.

If it were anyone else, Itachi might be offended. As it stands, he’s impressed. 

When Lee reaches one thousand, he leaps to his feet with an enthusiastic exclamation, “My warm-up is now complete, Itachi-san! I should’ve begun earlier so that we could spar right away.”

He does a thousand push-ups to warm up. Gods help any Genin he gets.

“No apology necessary, Lee-san,” Itachi assures, sweeping his navy cloak around his feet in a graceful arch. The other man’s eyes follow the movement and Itachi smirks. The more comfortable an enemy (or sparring partner, in this case) is with his subtle movements, the more likely they are to let one of his genjutsus befall them, “I was early. It is still before our agreed time.”

“Still, a good ninja should always be prepared! Next time, I will begin my warm-up one hour earlier!” Lee says--more like shouts-- as he gives Itachi an exaggerated thumbs up. 

His enthusiasm is obviously genuine, but the buffoonery is also clearly a type of mask. One that is useful because it strays so close to Lee’s true self. Itachi wonders what it takes to make Lee drop that mask. He’s always liked puzzles, and he wants to see what’s underneath this one.

“We should always be prepared,” Itachi agrees easily, purposely lumping Lee into the “good ninja” category with himself, “And part of that preparation includes good rest.”

Lee flounders for a moment, mouth as round as his eyes. Itachi feels himself twitch internally and fights the urge to burst into clones and disappear; gods he’s becoming his mother and Sakura all in one. He needs to fight, now.

“You are so right, Itachi-san!” Lee says, eyes shining, “What a youthful way to encourage health. I will sleep one extra hour before our next spar!”

Itachi’s most certainly does feel inordinately pleased that Lee already wants to spar with him again, thank-you-very-much. 

“How would you like to spar, Itachi-san?” Lee asks politely, tone taking on a more business-like quality. It is still more energized than the average person’s, but the shinobi in Lee is clearly taking root for the day.

“You are a taijutsu master?” Itachi more confirms than asks. Rose-colored spots appear on the apple of Lee’s cheeks.

“Not like Gai-sensei.”

“Ah, yes. Konoha's Green Beast,” Itachi murmurs, and suddenly remembers where he knows Lee from. Remembers dropping in on his partner to pull him away; remembers a soaked jumpsuit and a determined stance. Ironically, if Kisame were alive today, he’d probably really like Lee. Kisame was always over the top himself.

“That’s Gai-sensei!” Lee confirms, embarrassment abandoned for adoration. 

“Any student of Konoha's Green Beast must be formidable indeed,” Itachi says solemnly. If Sakura were present, she would certainly berate him for teasing Lee, but Itachi has to entertain himself somehow, “Would you do me the honor of a taijutsu only battle?”

Surprisingly, Lee visibly hesitates, “Of course, Itachi-san. How would you like to mark the winner?”

Ah, Lee is worried about injuries. But what’s a spar without a little fun?

“The first to break a bone?” Itachi dares, voice mischievous. Lee straightens at the obvious taunt.

“If you are sure, Itachi-san.”

Oddly, the green-clad man looks more concerned than afraid. Perhaps he’s had a recent injury and doesn’t want to exacerbate it. Itachi considers rehashing the stakes, perhaps suggesting something less painful, but at this point Lee would likely take it as an insult. The damage is done.

“Let’s begin, then, shall we?” Itachi asks. Lee nods sharply once and leaps high into the air, leg aiming for Itachi’s head on its descent. Itachi flickers sideways and grabs for Lee’s heel, only for the other man to use Itachi’s arm as a springboard. Lee lands across the field, having traveled impossibly far for even an ordinary shinobi. 

Well. Taijutsu master indeed. 

This is going to be fun.

\------

Two hours later, Itachi feels the tell-tale snap of his collarbone as Lee’s heel meets it full on and smiles. 

Someone beat him. Lee was clearly not going full throttle and Itachi is healthy. But Lee won.

It feels good.

“Itachi-san! I apologize. I thought you would dodge,” Lee frets. He practically twitches with nervous energy but doesn’t reach for Itachi, obviously used to a shinobi’s tendency to become overly protective of their person when injured. Really, though, Itachi feels totally at ease. Invigorated, even. 

“Do not apologize,” Itachi says solemnly, “You beat me honestly. I underestimated you, and for that I should be the one apologizing. You are a formidable opponent.”

The flush returns to Lee’s cheeks, “Thank you, Itachi-san. You are too kind.” 

Itachi smiles at the other man. He feels like he’s floating next to the moon; like a star in the night sky. An ordinary shinobi, not an S-class nin or a reincarnated god, but an actual Jounin, beat him. Nobody even died. Gods, this day couldn’t get better. 

“Are you alright, Itachi-san?” Lee asks hesitantly. Itachi cocks his head at the other man, still smiling. Lee doesn’t smile back.

Ah, yes. It must be strange to be so thrilled after an injury. 

Itachi readjusts his senses, tones down the hyper-spacial awareness that grows with a fight and turns on the physical awareness he wears in his day-to-day life. 

He grimaces.

“Itachi?” Lee asks frantically, lightly grabbing onto Itachi’s elbow. It jostles his collarbone and he hisses involuntarily at the contact. Lee drops him fast as a hot coal.

“I am quite alright, Lee-san,” Itachi assures, doing his best to look comforting. How do ordinary people do that? They smile, right? But it’s been recently proven that smiling is not Itachi’s best course of action, so he settles on a neutral expression. At least he doesn’t look to be in pain.

“I think we should go see Sakura-chan,” Lee says seriously. Itachi involuntarily nods at the tone; it’s out of place and oddly frightening from the normally cheerful man. 

“I was planning to return home anyway,” Itachi concedes, “I will be sure to visit Sakura-nee as soon as I arrive.”

Lee nods and furrows his bushy brows, hands nervously clenching at his sides, “I do not want to insult your fighting spirit, Itachi-san, but I would like to take you to see Sakura-chan myself. If that is alright, of course!”

Warmth eclipses the pain. It’s as if Itachi has realized Sakura and Sasuke stayed away from Konoha for him again. Less intense than then, perhaps, but as delightfully foreign as before. Someone cares for him, not as weapon or a proxy for his siblings, but for him.

“Of course, Lee-san,” Itachi murmurs, hoping his voice does not betray how overwhelmed the gesture, probably so typical for Lee, makes him feel.

“Yosh!” Lee exclaims brightly, “Sakura will leave you feeling even more youthful than before!”

\---------

Sakura makes him feel abused.

“So, Lee won, huh?” Sakura asks slyly, glowing green hands flooding him with deceptive healing. 

“If we had fought with anything other than Taijutsu, Itachi-san would’ve won!” Lee exclaims, eyes nervously watching Sakura’s hands. Itachi has an inexplicable urge to smooth down to worried crease between Lee’s eyes. 

Sakura smirks like she can read his thoughts. Definitely abuse. 

“Lee won fairly,” Itachi says dryly, lifting his nose into the air despite the protesting twinge from his collarbone. Sakura hums thoughtfully and rests one hand on her large belly. Itachi gently pushes her other hand away from where it’s hovering over his still-sore bone.

“Well, that’s all I can do for now,” Sakura says apologetically, accepting the reminder for what it is, “Take it easy for a few days and you’ll be fine. No katanas.”

Sakura’s eyes twinkle as she deliberately locks gazes with Itachi, “Lee, would you mind helping Itachi grab a few things from the market for me? I don’t want him to carry too much weight today, especially in the snow.”

Itachi considers reminding his little sister that he could down an army with a pinky. He can certainly handle a few groceries. 

But she’s being mischevious not practical, and they both know it.

“Of course, Sakura-chan! It’s the least I can do!” Lee easily agrees, giving the pinkette a blinding smile, “Anything to help with baby-kun!”

Sakura rolls her eyes fondly, “Baby-kun needs to hurry up. I feel like a house.”

“You shine with the beauty of new motherhood!” From anyone else the words would be sarcastic and awkward, but Sakura just gives a pleased smile when Lee says them. 

“Thank you, Lee. Let me get you the list.”

Itachi is not foolish enough to think he has any say in the matter.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'll try out these little intermediary chapters every once in awhile. Let me know what you think!

Hinata has a good feeling about Itachi. And Shinobi are taught to trust their instincts for a reason. 

She’d met him once when she was nothing more than a toddler. They’d been at a clan function, of course, and Itachi divided his time between playing the perfect heir and fussing over his little brother. Hinata was less shy, then--hadn’t yet been kidnapped and terrified--so she toddled over to the other children while her nurse fretted over her pregnant mother. 

Itachi had been kind to her then. Unusually kid, for a boy who was already a Chuunin and a great Clan Heir. He’d cocked her on one hip and Sasuke on the other, and gone about his business like it was perfectly normal for a shinobi to walk around with two children on their hips. Fuguku and Hiashi couldn’t even separate them; it would be rude, and Itachi refused to take their subtle hints. 

Hinata was three, but she remembers it to this day. Remembers the loud voices at the functions that made her feel inferior, even confident with ignorance as she was then. 

Itachi had a kinder heart as a child than most, and a love for his village that was passionate enough to lead to the death of his clan. 

Hinata hopes, for his sake, that he never lets duty so strongly eclipse love again.

If Sakura’s letters are to be believed, he’s well on his way to a healthier outlook.

So, when the Uchiha Clan moves back to Konoha, Hinata is the one who insists they visit as a family. She is the one who talks down her husband’s fears and urges him to trust his teammates. She is the one who reminds him of what redemption is.

Predictably, within minutes of re-meeting him, Naruto hands Itachi Boruto. And the Uchiha does not disappoint.

Boruto slams his baby fist into the corner of Itachi’s mouth, rubs drool in his tunic, and snores inches from his ear. And Itachi smiles. 

Yes, Hinata has a good feeling about Itachi.

Now, the rest of Konoha just needs to see what she sees. 

Well, Kurenai-sensei has been thinking about retiring….


	7. Chapter 7

Apparently spending an entire day with Lee (from sunset training to the lunch Sakura insists they both stay for) is enough to solidify Itachi as a genuine friend to the other man. Itachi can’t say he minds. Lee’s honest enthusiasm and friendly countenance are a welcome change from the wary way others watch him. Against better judgment, Lee trusts Itachi.

It’s humbling, like a responsibility Itachi needs to live up to. So when Lee asks for a bi-weekly sparring partner, Itachi agrees. When Sakura tells him Lee hasn’t had a steady partner since his Genin teammate died in the war, Itachi has an inexplicable urge to murder the whole of Konoha. Apparently, other shinobi find Lee too odd to train with often. Idiots.

“If I do not win this round, I will scale the side of Hokage Mountain with one arm tied behind my back and no chakra!” Lee exclaims, lurching to a stand. His arm guards are loose, tattered ribbons swaying in the breeze, but his body looks no worse for wear after opening the second gate.

Still, Itachi knows better than anyone what strain special techniques can have. 

“Lee-san,” Itachi says persuasively, doing his best to sound weary, “We should stop for lunch. I am...unaccustomed to fighting for so long, nowadays.” Itachi had used genjutsu today; few shinobi could walk away from him easily after that.

“We should work on your stamina, then!” Lee exclaims, but it seems to be more out of habit than as a genuine push to continue. Lee’s brows are furrowed slightly as he tries to subtly scan Itachi. But Lee is not a stealth specialist or sensor, and Itachi was once in Anbu. Lee’s searching gaze is painfully obvious.

Sometimes, Itachi wonders if Sakura asked Lee to look after him. If Lee is a pity friend. Then he remembers Lee’s impromptu sparring invitation and Naruto’s genuine surprise at seeing Lee in Konoha, and his insecurities fade away for another day.

Itachi deliberately pulls out the dango Sakura made for him first. He should not begin with sweets, especially after so much training, but dango is his favorite and Lee deserves something nice after being trapped in a genjutsu. Even one designed for a friend.

Itachi wordlessly hands the busy-eyed man a stick of his favorite treat. Lee startles and accepts is gently, as if Itachi has gifted him something precious, “Thank you, Itachi-san.”

Itachi’s cheeks are warm because he has been training, not because he is embarrassed. The snow still clinging to the ground means nothing.

Itachi takes a page out of his brother’s book and grunts, “Sakura made extra.”

“How is Sakura-chan? Baby-kun must be arriving soon!”

“Any day now,” Itachi agrees softly, nibbling on his dango. Sasuke has taken to running drills to the hospital to see how quickly he can get there. He carried Naruto on one of them and Sai had snapped a picture; the fallout has been more than entertaining.

“You will be a wonderful Oji-san,” Lee says at a normal volume, eyes serious beneath black brows. Alright, fine, Itachi is blushing.

Their easy companionship is broken as an Anbu drops between them. Itachi has Lee behind him before the woman lands. 

Lee moves a bit slower--no doubt less wary of Konoha shinobi than Itachi--although he gracefully stands before the Anbu can speak.

“Uchiha-san,” The woman greets, her owl mask blending into her ebony hair. Once, Itachi had known the identity of every Anbu, even those he wasn’t supposed to. But that was many years ago and most of them are long dead; this young woman is entirely foreign to him. He does not like the ignorance.

“Anbu-san,” Lee greets, peeking around Itachi, “What brings you to our training ground on this vibrant day?”

“Hokage-sama sent me to inform you that your brother’s wife has gone into labor,” The Anbu says to Itachi. Although the message is for him--and a joyful one at that--irritation rises in Itachi’s gut. She ignored Lee.

Itachi glowers.

“Thank you, Anbu-san!” Lee says enthusiastically, hard muscles brushing just lightly against Itachi’s arm as he leans forward, “We will go there at once!”

Message delivered, the Anbu disappears in a swarm of leaves. 

“Baby-kun must’ve heard us talking about them!” Lee says brightly, quickly gathering he and Itachi’s lunches in his arms.

He stands, still smiling, but it fades at Itachi’s dark glare. 

“I apologize, Itachi-san,” Lee says, flinching, “I should not have answered for you.”

What?

It’s like the constant stream of joy has friend Lee’s brain cells.

“What you should not do,” Itachi says darkly, stepping forward until he is toe-to-toe with Lee, “Is allow yourself to be ignored.”

Lee’s eyes dart to the ground, but he stands tall in the face of Itachi’s anger, “The message was not for me, Itachi-san.”

“No, it was not,” Itachi agrees, more gently this time, “But you answered all the same, and you are my companion. You are not to be ignored.”

“Oh,” Lee breathes, gaze meeting Itachi’s for half a beat before settling on the Uchiha’s chin. 

“Oh,” Itachi agrees, taking in the pounding of his heart and the way the light shines on Lee’s hair.

Oh, fuck.

He’s like a horny teenager, enraptured with the first kind face he sees. This will not do.

“We should go to the hospital,” Lee suggests softly, eyes darting from Itachi’s collarbone to his nose, but never to the Uchiha’s own.

“Yes,” Itachi agrees. 

Lee is uncharacteristically silent as they run towards the newest Uchiha, but Itachi is too consumed by his own thoughts to notice.

\----------

The waiting room is bursting with everyone from the Hokage to the random nurses who flit in every few minutes, curious about their head doctor’s child.

Tsunade and Shizune are, of course, delivering the newest Uchiha, and Sasuke summoned his chakra-hand for Sakura to squeeze (thank gods it has no bones to break), so Itachi is stuck outside the room with people he barely knows. 

But Lee has not left him and Hinata settled on his other side and dumped Boruto in his arms as soon as they arrived, so he’s feeling rather peaceful overall. 

“We’ve got ten to three odds the baby will be a boy,” Naruto proudly deduces, pen he’d wrangled from some nurse tucked behind his ear, “Lee and Itachi, what do you think?”

“Itachi can’t play,” Kakashi berates around his orange book, “It’s not fair.”

“The Sharingan cannot deduce gender,” Itachi says wryly, but he doesn’t complain. He thinks it’s probably best for his health if he has plausible deniability anyway.

“We can share my bet, Itachi-san!” Lee offers in a stage-whisper, “What do you think baby-kun will be?”

“A girl,” Itachi says simply.

“I bet we will have a beautiful spring blossom!” Lee exclaims loudly, and somehow Naruto correctly interprets that as a female with no trouble. He’s spoken Lee long enough, Itachi supposes. 

As Naruto makes the final mark for Lee on his spreadsheet, a wail breaks through the curses streaming out of Sakura’s hospital room. 

Itachi clears his throat as his chest clogs with emotion; the newest Uchiha has a loud cry. Their lungs are healthy. 

Itachi waits with baited breath, and doesn’t even notice Hinata gently pluck her son from his grasp. After what feels like years, Shizune pokes her head out of the hospital room, “It’s a healthy baby girl!” Over everyone's cheers, she beckons Itachi to come forward.

Inexplicably, he’s frozen. He’s been wishing and waiting for this child for seven months; trying to refashion his life into something stable for the little Uchiha to grow up around. But what if he’s failed? What if he doesn’t know enough?

“Go on, Oji-san,” Lee says, to quietly for anyone else to hear. Itachi breathes; he hadn’t even noticed he’d stopped.

With a stilted heartbeat, Itachi goes to meet his niece.

\-----------

Sarada Uchiha is beautiful.

Truly, she is. Her hair is black as night and her little lips are a beautiful rose color. Her lashes are long and her cheeks positively cherubic. 

Itachi has always known what love at first sight is, knows he experienced it when Sasuke was born, but he was very young then. He’s an adult now, and the emotions feel different. Itachi would walk to the ends of the earth for this little girl, she only need ask.

“She is amazing, Nee-chan,” Itachi says, voice choked. Sasuke has tear tracks drying on his own cheeks, but he hasn’t looked away from Sarada long enough to even wipe them. Sakura is softer and more content that Itachi has ever seen her as she watches her clan. 

“She’s an Uchiha,” Sakura says simply, gently reaching forward to slip one of her fingers between Sarada’s. Her little fist grasps her mother’s automatically.

It’s not until a tear rolls off Sarada’s button nose that Itachi realizes he’s crying, “Thank you for fixing my mistakes.”

Sakura extracts her finger from her daughter’s grip and grasps Itachi’s wrist in a silent command to meet her eyes. Itachi doesn’t look away from his niece.

“You were an abused and manipulated child who had too much duty in his heart,” Sakura says firmly, “It was not your fault.”

Itachi sobs and hands his niece carefully to his brother. Sasuke accepts the precious package, looking torn. Yes, the brothers have cried around each other before, but they’ve never sobbed. Never been as vulnerable as Itachi is now.

“Despite my intentions, I killed my clan,” Itachi says around his silent heaves, dignity as intact as possible even now, “And it is my fault that Sarada will have no cousins to grow up with. That she is the first Uchiha born in a generation.”

“She will have siblings,” Sakura soothes, fist firmly locked around Itachi’s arm, “And parents who love her. And an Oji-san who would give his life for hers. She is a blessed child.” 

Itachi nods, too afraid to speak. 

“We forgive you, Aniki,” Sasuke says solemnly, leaning his arm-less side against his brothers in a half-hug.

“Without your love, there would be no Uchiha left at all,” Sakura says, eyes fierce as her famous Shishou’s, “You are a hero, and Sarada will be proud to call you Oji.”

If no one else is allowed in the hospital room for quite some time, well, some things are reserved for family.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the shorty, but nothing else seemed to go with it!

“Uchiha-sama!” 

Itachi turns automatically at the exclamation, fighting the urge to look around for his father. But he towers above everyone's heads, not below their knees, and his father is long dead. Unless Sasuke finally deigned to leave the hospital room (extremely unlikely) or there’s another random Uchiha running around (proven unfortunately possible by Obito all those years ago), they must be calling for him.

Iruka scurries up to Itachi, somehow looking simply busy rather than flustered as his hair falls from its ponytail and his clipboard fights to run with the breeze, “Uchiha-sama, I apologize for yelling like that, but I have been looking for you all day.”

Itachi smiles at Iruka, the corners of his mouth lifting just so, “No need to apologize Iruka-sensei. Can I help you with something?”

“I have a favor to ask,” Iruka says, nervously scratching at the scar on his nose.  
Itachi wants to trust the charming little teacher, but dread pools in his stomach at the other shinobi’s obvious hesitation.

“I will do my best to assist you,” Itachi says warily. Iruka may or may not mutter something unflattering about the Hokage before continuing.

“Although I don’t teach at the Academy anymore, I act as a sort of administrative head,” Itachi nods along, having memorized the Academy’s structure months before in preparation for his niece’s arrival, “And we’ve recently lost our speciality genjutsu instructor…”

Iruka trails off, obviously hoping Itachi will volunteer himself before Iruka has to ask, but the Uchiha can only stare in horror.

“Kurenei-sensei was our speciality instructor for years, but with her little girl she has her hands full,” Iruka plows on, rushing to get the words out, “You would only need to come to the Academy once a week. Twice, closer to exam time. You would simply be a speciality instructor, and the classes’ teacher wouldn’t even leave you alone with them.”

Itachi stares, somehow even more horrified than before, as Iruka bows low to him in the middle of the busy street. Passerby valiantly pretend not to stare, obviously recognizing either the lost Uchiha or the Hokage’s aide, but people side-eye them warily all the same.

“No need for that Iruka-sensei,” Itachi finally stutters--actually stutters, gods, “I would be happy to help,” Oh gods, take it back, “But is the village comfortable with me spending time with the children?” Has the Hokage gone fucking crazy?

Iruka straightens with a blinding smile, and turns his clipboard towards Itachi, “Of course! Hokage-sama thinks it will be good for the children to learn from someone with so much worldly experience,” In other words, Kakashi thinks it will be funny, “Your contract for the academy is here. Please drop it by the assignment desk or the Academy by Wednesday.”

With another uncomfortable bow and a thousand-watt smile, Iruka dashes off to his next victim, “Thank you, Itachi-san! You are a great service to your village.”

Itachi stares after the brunette. The distinct feeling that he was conned creeps up on him. 

He already regrets this.

\---------------------------

With his siblings busy with the newest Uchiha, Itachi doesn’t have many people to talk to. He could, still, he knows that. Knows Sakura would be delighted to offer him any advice, and Sasuke would puff up with pride at being his brother’s confidant, but this is their time to bond with their child, not fix an emotionally broken man. 

So Itachi goes to the only true friend he has in the village: Lee.

He’d missed their bi-weekly sparring session--both of them, actually--and shamelessly used his new niece as his excuse. 

The truth is, Itachi is afraid. 

He’s never had time for romantic feelings before. His little brother soaked up all his love and his village all his duty. Missions were constant, responsibilities were looming, and as a young teenager, he was expected to stop a civil war before it started. 

He didn’t even masturbate for the first time until he left Konoha. 

Oh, sure, he’s had sex. With multiple genders and people who some would consider only half-human (he and his partner had slept together exactly once before deciding it was just too strange). He’s not unfamiliar with a shinobi’s need for release. He knows enough to know gender doesn’t matter to him, and--with the exception of children--neither does age.

But feelings have never been a factor. He’s never slept with the same person twice--he’s never even seen most of his partners a second time--much less discovered some sort of connection to them.

But friendship is not so foreign, for all that it is rare. Friendship is Shuishui and Kakashi, his brother and Sakura, Kisame and his ravens. 

He values friendship. So he bites his lips and searches for Lee. 

He, of course, finds Konoha’s resident taijutsu master doing one-finger push-ups. 

Itachi is a bit concerned about his own sanity when he finds the odd pose charming.

“Itachi-san!” Lee cries happily, dropping his stance immediately, “How wonderful to see your vigorous self today! How is Sarada-chan?”

Itachi smiles despite himself, “She is very well. They are expected to go home in the morning.”

“That is great news!”

Itachi crinkles his eyes happily, “She is the perfect baby.”

Lee looks shell-shocked for some reason, “Of course she is.”

Itachi’s own smile dims to a neutral expression, and he asks with the utmost politeness, “Do you have time for a conversation, Lee-san?”

Lee cocks his head in confusion, “Of course, Itachi-san. I always have time for you.”

Oh, he needs to get over whatever these feelings are. Now. Before he embarrasses himself. 

Itachi ushers Lee over to sit under their tree. Well, a tree. The tree they typically have lunch under after they spar. 

“I have been asked,” Itachi begins hesitantly. He takes a breath to steady himself, and channels all the poise of a Clan Head when he speaks, “Iruka-sensei would like me to teach genjutsu at the Academy.”

“That is wonderful, Itachi-san!” Lee says, clasping a hand on Itachi’s shoulder, “The children will learn a lot from you!”  
Itachi can feel himself soften, slouch further towards Lee at his words, and when he speaks his fears, it’s practically involuntary, “What if they’re afraid of me?”

Lee makes a wounded sound deep in his chest. He leans forward on his knees and locks eyes with Itachi, passionate gaze scorching, “They have no reason to be afraid of you, Itachi-san. They might take a little while to realize that, but I know they’ll all love you. Your youthful fire will call to theirs!”

Itachi laughs lowly despite himself. Only Lee could end something so serious with such a ridiculous sentence. It’s amazing.

“Thank you, Lee.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to pumpkinrum and BrightestofCrayons for the reviews :)


	9. Chapter 9

The Academy is for training shinobi. Shinobi train other shinobi. Itachi should look like a shinobi for the children.

He should wear a--his--hiate.

Itachi repeats the broken mantra in his mind for at least the tenth time and resists the urge to puke all over his brother’s front porch. 

He's a terrifying man who can bring the most powerful shinobi to their knees; he's defeated the current and future Hokage in battle. He survived a years long partnership with the most ruthless missing nin to ever grace the world.

And he is inexplicably terrified to enter his sibling’s home.

Turns out, he doesn't have a choice.

Sakura yanks open the front door and tugs him inside my his ear like an errant child. He can only blink, utterly startled at her gall as she scoffs, “Uchihas. You're born brooding.” 

“I resent that,” Sasuke calls, voice muffled by the wall between the kitchen and living room. 

“But you can't deny it,” Sakura quips back, divesting Itachi of his cloak with gentle fingers, “Come on, Nii-san. Tell me all about it.”

He feels like a scolded child and he’s strangely fine with it. Once, as a Clan Heir, Anbu, or missing nin, he would've been offended. But trite things such as pride died with his first life; comfort and feelings are allowed now. 

“I've accepted a position at the Academy as a special instructor.”

“For genjutsu?” Sakura asks, clapping in delight at his nod, “That's wonderful!”

“Is it?” Itachi asks faintly. He doesn't even notice his brother approach until he carefully deposits Sarada into Itachi’s lap. His niece, just a week old, is in a rare state of wakefulness, and her dark gaze is fixed as if participating in the conversation. 

Regardless of how the academy students respond to him (or more accurately, their parents), he will teach his niece everything he knows. Including how to question orders. Itachi silently promises this to her now, and her lids slip close in an echo of satisfaction.

Yes, she's a perfect baby. 

“You love children, Aniki, you have nothing to be afraid of,” Sasuke says in a rare display of insightfulness. Itachi’s little brother is generally perceptive, but he rarely deigns to acknowledge that or do much with his observations. 

Sakura beams at her husband, clearly proud of his proper emotional reaction, “And they love you! You're one of the only ones who can get Inojin to smile.” The newest Yamanaka is a rather solemn baby, but not unhappy. Itachi feels he is a kindred soul. 

“Would you smile is Sai was your father?” Sasuke mumbles, sitting down next to Itachi so he could hear the quiet words. Itachi’s lips quirk in a private smirk. He has yet to meet this mysterious Sai; it's a not-quite-secret that the man is busy reforming Anbu. It's a very-not-secret that Sasuke despises him. 

“Oh!” Sakura cries, forcefully shoving her husband back on the seat when he tries to pop up at her exclamation. If Sasuke’s grimace is anything to go by, the push involved chakra, “Don't move!”

Sakura dashes up the stairs of her home and digs frantically for something. The Uchiha brothers share a long-suffering glance as a loud thud echoes through the house; Sakura has had a bit of trouble getting her chakra control to cooperate since Sarada’s birth, and her monstrous strength seems to come into play at the most inconvenient times. 

After several more worrisome crashes Sakura returns to the living room holding a shiny box. Itachi involuntarily clutches his niece protectively as Sasuke groans, “Gods, that thing is worse than the telephone.”

“I married a ninety year old,” Sakura complains, but there was no malice in her voice, “Now--both of you--smile for the camera!”

Of course. Itachi has heard that civilians have developed a handheld camera. He wasn't aware they'd made their way to Kohima since his death, but it certainly looks more convenient than the clunky older ones. He remembers getting a family photo taken, another with his Genin teammates...he can count the number of photos he's been in in his life on both hands.

Ah yes, and he remembers the blinding flash.

Sarada’s nose crinkles and she lets loose a low whine, obviously a bit discontented with the photo herself.

“Thanks my girl,” Sasuke says proudly, carefully extracting her from Itachi’s grip. Itachi has never seen Sasuke so openly display emotion; even the obvious devotion he holds for his wife is released in bouts of Sasuke-ness that few understand. The way he coos at his daughter-- adoringly--is typical of someone of Naruto’s disposition. It's strange, but not unwelcome.

If the bright flash of the camera is to be believed, Sakura clearly agrees.

“Now, Nii-San,” Sakura says, all business, like she didn't just pause in the middle of their conversation to fuss over her family, “It's perfectly normal to be worried when starting a new job. Healthy, even. And I won't pretend that some parents won't have a problem with you, but I doubt it's as many as you think. And kids tend to find things their parents dislike even more exciting.”

Well, Itachi can't fault her there. He does have an unnatural love for dango for a reason. Child soldiers aren't supposed to have a sweet tooth. 

Even though nerves are still buried in the tense of his shoulders and the lines of his stomach, Itachi does feel his chest ease at Sakura’s words. Her advice is astute and well delivered. She will be--is--a wonderful mother. 

“Thank you, Nee-san,” itachi says evenly in an attempt to reign his emotions back under his control. Sakura smiles indulgently, like he's failing but it's cute to see him try. 

“Anytime.”

“Here,” Sasuke says, thrusting a piece of cloth at his brother unceremoniously. He doesn't even look away from his daughter, just pulls the object from the depths of his pocket like a sword from the stone. 

Is Sasuke more emotionally stable now? Yes. Is he comfortable expressing those stable emotions? Rarely. 

Still, Itachi accepts the comforting gesture for its intent and gingerly takes the offering. His breath hitches as he feels the cloth, new and strong. 

He didn't have to ask for his hiate after all. 

\-----

“-respect Uchiha-sensei’s time. He is an impressive shinobi and you are lucky to learn from him,” Shino Abrume says methodically, voice void of inflection. Strangely, the students seem to respond to his lack of outward enthusiasm: they’re completely enraptured by the front of their classroom.

Itachi scans the children (third year Academy students, likely around seven), notices three Hyuuga, one Abrume, two Inuzuka, and one Akimichi. The blond in the back corner is likely at least a quarter Yamanaka, and the red-head in the front row is as flushed as his hair…

Ah. The children are enraptured by him, not their teacher. 

“Thank you, Abrume-sensei,” Itachi says cooly. One of the little girls in the back corner (unfamiliar, possibility from a civilian family) flinches at his tone. Itachi fights the urge to crumple. This is already going horribly. 

Shino rescues him, and Itachi remembers a long forgotten piece of trivia: members of the Abrume Clan can utilize their bugs to sense emotions, when skilled enough, “Class, tell Uchiha-sensei what you know about genjutsu.”

The maybe-Yamanaka shoots his hand up before Shino finishes speaking. Well, if he’s that fast now, he may be a great ninja yet.

“Akio?” It may be Itachi’s imagination, but Shino sounds a bit tired as he calls on his eager student. 

A tiny voice fills the classroom, loud despite its youth, “Genjutsu are illusions,” the little boy stumbles slightly over the long word, although he does not pause, “Which means they don’t actually happen to you; not like ninjutsu or taijutsu. Genjutsu specialists can win a battle without touching their opponent.”

“Correct,” Shino praises evenly, “And what is required for a genjutsu?"

No one raises their hand, not even the eager little boy who’d already answered. 

“Kaiya,” Shino calls. A girl Itachi hadn’t noticed before pops her head up and blinks sleepily, “What is required to cast a genjutsu?”  
“Precise chakra control,” The girl says, blatantly bored. She plops her head back on her desk without another word. 

Another genius it seems. Itachi will keep an eye on her; she already looks a bit younger than the other students, and there are far too many former child soldiers who serve as a testament to the importance of age before graduation.

“Few ninja have the chakra control necessary to become genjutsu specialist. Uchiha-sensei?” Shino prompts, turning glasses-clad eyes Itachi’s way.

“Some shinobi are born with naturally precise chakra control,” Itachi picks up smoothly, his nervousness quelling under the clear enthusiasm of the children, “For example, my clan possesses a doujutsu that lends us natural chakra control, although there are still various affinities. Others have a personal skill; many shinobi who become medics could also become genjutsu specialists, and vice-versa.”

One of the Inuzuka children lazily raises a hand. Shino nods for him to speak, “Is it true you killed your clan, Uchiha-sensei?” The children perk up further, the gossip dangling in front of them enticing as sugar. Itachi’s stomach bottoms out but all he can do is stare, hearing strangely detached as Shino scolds the little boy.

Well, Sakura was right. They’re certainly not afraid of him.


	10. Chapter 10

Itachi curls his mouth around the acidic task as sake burns a steady line down the back of his throat. He'd only meant to pretend to drink it, but Sasuke jolts his elbow every time he leans closer to his brother to escape Naruto’s flailing arms and reeling posture. Over the last hour, the blond has drank more than the Uchiha brothers combined, despite the fact that the future Hokage forcefully dragged Itachi to this bar for (supposedly) his feelings. 

“Teme,” Naruto slurs, flinging one arm around Sasuke’s shoulders. The Uchiha’s lip curls in disgust, “If we go to the Academy with Itachi the kids will be nice to him, right?”

It’s sweet, in a naive sort of way. Itachi briefly imagines Naruto and Sasuke, katana’s on their hips, playing bodyguards like heroes from some old fairytale. 

“Dobe.” Sasuke pushes Naruto from his barstool. The future Hokage meets the wooden ground with a satisfying thud. 

Itachi smiles despite himself and considers the milky liquid in his cup. He managed to down one earlier, but the thought of finishing this glass of sake is near vomit inducing. Itachi has never enjoyed indulging in alcohol. He does so very rarely and sparsely, only when propriety demands it and never in excess. Any sort of mental impairment makes him uncomfortable.

“Naruto!” A cheerful voice calls above the din of reckless shinobi and an uncomfortably horny Anko yelling something about snakes (she’s worse than Orochimaru in some ways). Itachi involuntarily perks up at the blessed sound of a sober ninja, “I apologize for being late, my youthful friends! I was training with Gai-sensei when I received your most welcome invitation.”

Lee folds himself gracefully onto the stool next to Itachi, blinding smile firmly in place. The bushy-eyed man smells slightly of sweat and earth, although it is far from bothersome. The scent is familiar for shinobi, one of hard work and camaraderie: comforting rather than unpleasant. 

“Lee,” Itachi murmurs, quirking his lips in a silent greeting. Lee’s gaze is soft and voice softer when he answers, both far from his usual bright pallor.

“Children have trouble understanding emotions. Theirs or others,” Lee offers, just for Itachi. Were he anyone else, Itachi would be upset that Naruto spread details of his personal life. Since it’s Lee, Itachi allows himself to push past the initial instinct and be comforted.

Further down the counter, Naruto and Sasuke are too busy bickering like toddlers to listen in; they’d likely only be surprised by the normally exuberant man’s serious aura. 

“I am sorry they were cruel to you,” Lee continues, just as quietly. It's as if the world has bent around them and provided a private bubble just for Lee’s whispers. 

“They didn't intend to be,” Itachi says, surprised to find he means the words. He doesn't blame the children for asking questions. He's glad, even, that it means they aren't afraid to ask him. But he's...ashamed. Sad that his clan will never be what it once was. Horrified with himself. 

Suddenly the sake seems more appealing.

“It hurts anyway.” Lee’s arm brushes Itachi’s as he speaks, the energy he wears just under his skin bubbling over with shared anxiety. 

A brief hint of….something settles in Itachi’s chest at the words. Lee’s comments are insightful, as they often are, but a bit too knowing for comfort. He’s speaking from experience. 

Itachi does not have the energy to anger or question now, however. He simply chooses to be moved that the other man so empathizes with him.

“It does,” Itachi concedes. It feels much more a victory than an admission of weakness, with the comforting presence of his brother on one side and the understanding of Lee on the other. Feels like he's finally healing. 

\------------------------------

Hours later, Itachi huffs in amusement as Sasuke trips over a fallen Naruto and falls headfirst onto Konoha’s rocky street. ( The raven-haired continued to insist after a drinking game with Naruto that he was more sober than his companion, which prompted a ‘race’ home to prove whom was less intoxicated. Itachi thinks--as their limbs tangle and someone’s shoe flies off-- they’ve tied.)

“Comrades, do you require assistance?” Lee asks mock-gravely, laughter shining through his voice and his countenance. Neither man answers, too busy wrestling on the ground to notice anyone but each other. 

“Move, Teme!” Naruto slurs, flopping like a fish as he tries to roll out from under the Uchiha. Sasuke smirks and drops his full body weight onto the blond, every bit a mischevious toddler. It reminds Itachi of baby Sasuke, so sweet to him but a vicious cryer for most others. He lost that innocence--that wide-eyed charisma--too young. Sarada will keep hers. 

“They’re children,” Itachi remarks to Lee lowly, the corner of his mouth quirking in a private joke. Lee’s eyes, dark and round as a midnight moon, shine with silent mirth. 

Blocks away, Itachi feels the presence of another approach, one that is becoming far too familiar for comfort. Itachi likes Iruka, he really does, but as the Hokage’s aid hops from roof to roof in a beeline for their location, he can’t help but contemplate avoiding the man.

“We have a visitor,” Itachi comments, voice carefully monotone, to the younger shinobi. Lee shifts a bit closer to Itachi automatically. Not in an expectation of protection, as some would have done, but in a silent show of support and companionship.

Even Naruto and Sasuke, intoxicated as they are, jump to intention, inadvertently revealing they were capable all along. Itachi allows himself one second of amusement before Iruka drops in front of him with a tiny plop. 

“Iruka-sensei!” Naruto cheers, all but falling forward as he crashes into the poor Chuunin. Miraculously, despite the stone’s being slippery with melting snow, Iruka manages to keep them both standing.

“Naruto-kun,” Iruka greets fondly before he fully takes in the scene. Itachi notices the visible change when Iruka realizes just how drunk the man is; his nose literally curls in disapproval, “You’re a mess.”

“Iruka-sensei…” Naruto whines, drawing the syllables out unnecessarily, “We had to make Itachi feel better!”

“Is that so?” Iruka asks, nose still firmly protesting. But his eyes are kind where they raze over Itachi and his silent band of emotional protectors. It’s as heart-warming as it is disturbing.

“Can I borrow Itachi-san for a moment?” Iruka asks the blond clinging to his shirt, and although the question is teasing, it’s the first time that Itachi realizes that Naruto outranks him, even as a Clan Head. All of them, really. “Kakashi-sama has a message for him.”

Sasuke scowls and grumbles, but his voice is more fond that biting, “What’s the old man want now?”

“I’m afraid that’s classified,” Iruka says politely with a distinct note of amusement. Clearly he enjoys Team 7’s lack of filter where their former sensei is concerned. 

“Go ahead, I will catch up,” Itachi tells his companions, tugging Naruto off of Iruka by the back of his shirt, Nanadaime or not. Sasuke stumbled up the street with one half-worried glance and Naruto with a loud protest, but it is Lee’s concern, clear as day in his hesitant steps, that warms Itachi’s heart.

It is not in Lee’s nature to leave someone when they are emotionally hurting. Sasuke and Naruto will do anything for a comrade, but they lack a bit of the emotional intelligence that Lee possesses. Very few people, Itachi thinks, are truly privy to the depth of Konoha's bushy-browed taijutsu master. 

Itachi gifts a small smile--a real one that is easily discernable--to the worried man. Lee returns it bashfully before nodding once and hurrying after his drunken friends.

“Itachi-san, I’m sorry for interrupting your night out,” Iruka says, sounding properly contrite, “But we had a bit of an incident at the Academy today, and Kakashi-sama has a favor to ask of you.”

And what a favor it must be, for Iruka to track him down in the middle of Konoha (strategically away from both his home and the Hokage’s office) to ask.

“Go on,” Itachi prompts, posture perfectly poised and tone just a touch below regal. To those who know him, his stiff response would be enough to betray his worry. But Iruka is not that familiar. To him, Itachi is a hero and a Clan Head, if a pleasant and approachable one.

“One of the students trapped another in a genjutsu today,” Itachi will admit, he is mildly intrigued. Few students--near Genin or not--have the control necessary to cast a genjutsu, “We don’t believe it was malicious. In fact, we think she was protecting another student.”

“Admirable.”

“Yes. That’s not what concerns us,” Iruka says, “She’s seven.”

“What is this student’s name?” Itachi asks, as if the answer has barely any consequence to him at all. But instinct is tapping in his skull, a rapid drum of experience and apprehension. 

“Kaiya Oshiro.” Ah, yes. Shino’s student. “She is an orphan from a mostly civilian family. I believe she lives with an aunt, perhaps has a shinobi cousin, so she hasn’t been monitored for long. She asked to join the Academy last year; ended up skipping the first grade within a few weeks. We have kept an eye on her since as she’s clearly talented. But this...this is the mark of a genius.”

And the genius’ of Konoha have historically painful lives. 

“You would like for me to tutor her in genjutsu?” Itachi infers, lifting one brow. 

Surprisingly, Iruka does not sag in relief at having the question asked for him.

“Yes,” Iruka says, tone resigned, “And everything else.”

Itachi fights the urge to flick on his sharingan. He must be in a genjutsu himself.

“Pardon? I must have misheard you.”

“Itachi-san,” Iruka says tiredly, not even bothering to manipulate him with kind words and honorifics, “Hokage-sama would like you to take a personal student.”

“Is he psychotic?” Itachi bites out before he could stop himself, chest heaving.

“Yes,” Iruka says irritably, “But you know as well as I do what usually happens to genius children.”

Itachi flinches. 

“Itachi.” It speaks to Itachi’s relative comfort in Konoha and Kakashi’s impressive skills that Itachi does not sense the Hokage before he speaks. Kakashi swings down from a shop awning, dropping himself beside Itachi gracefully despite the slippery surface, wet with winter. 

Still, Itachi berates himself. Hero or not, he is a powerful shinobi in possession of a coveted doujutsu and a reanimated body. There are many unpleasant people who may want him, on Konoha’s streets or off.

Kakashi shifts his head slightly so the hood obstructing his face shifts to reveal a porcelain mask. One Itachi has not seen in years and never expected to see again. Well well well...Despite how Konoha’s Hokage appears to be a diligent leader who’s left his past behind him, it seems Anbu Hound has begun making appearances once again. 

Itachi supposes he should be surprised that Iruka is intimately familiar with this side of the Hokage, but he’s really not. The former sensei just rolls his eyes at Kakashi’s dramatics, completely unperturbed by the dark-alley proceedings. 

“You sent me to slaughter when you were going to come yourself?” Iruka asks wryly, but his gaze is as fond as it is exasperated.

“I knew I would be delayed,” Kakashi says, mask entirely obscuring his emotions. Until he wants them shown.

“Itachi,” Kakashi begins again, imploringly, “I made a promise to your brother that I wouldn’t let another child be treated the way you were. Or I was, even. I need you to help me keep it.”

Kakashi is a manipulative bastard for bringing Sasuke into this. 

“The council wants to give the girl an early graduation. They want her to become a Genin. I convinced them she should have a private teacher instead so that she could mature at her own rate. They agreed, but only if you teach her.”

The wind picks up around them like a badly timed bell, mocking in its sudden severity. 

“They assume I’ll say no,” Itachi says evenly. The barest hint of a nod under the hound mask and Iruka’s averted eyes answer. No matter, he doesn’t need it.

Itachi hates the council; hates the stuffy old men and women who led to his clan’s downfall, for all that he held the sword. He does not hate lightly, but he does hate wholeheartedly.

“The council needs to learn they are wrong,” Itachi says simply. Iruka beams brightly enough to substitute for the sun. 

“They do,” Kakashi’s voice is positively feral. He is every bit a successful assassin in this moment, identity obscured by the visage of a famous killer. For Itachi, the energy that swirls between them, familiar despite its recent absence, speaks of teammates and the excitement before a mission.

Kakashi snagged him easily: hook, line, and sinker. If it were anyone but himself, Itachi would be amused. As it stands, he’s feeling a bit vicious. But not towards Kakashi, Iruka, or the little genius he’s agreed to tutor. 

No, towards the old hags who are attempting to ruin yet another life. It cannot be allowed.

“I will collect her from you tomorrow.” Itachi can almost feel the cool porcelain against his own face as he accepts his mission. Just like old times.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to YuliaLeafhill for the comment about honorifics! Super helpful--if I suddenly become accurate, she's why


	11. Chapter 11

Itachi knows all about Konoha’s new council: it contains two of the three former members (although Itachi is sure Kakashi would rather seem them dead than listen to their advice), every major Clan Head in the city, and a rotating representative from the major business divisions. Currently, the position belongs to Shizune from Konoha’s hospital. (Somehow, Itachi doesn’t think that’s a coincidence.) The council has gone from three members to thirteen over the years, and they currently range in both ability and age. 

That makes them no less idiotic at times. They must learn their lesson about hubris before it is too late; there will not be another tragedy.

Itachi’s determination in this is how he finds himself--just hours after his rendezvous with Hound--staring up at Hokage Tower for the first time since he returned to the village months ago. His hiatae is cool against his neck as it shifts like a forgotten limb; although he’s been in possession of it for nearly a week, today is the first time he’s worn it. The first day that Itachi feels like he is truly a ninja of Konoha once again. 

“Itachi, that you?” Itachi chuckles, good mood further bolstered as Konoha’s future Hokage stumbles to a halt beside him. Naruto groans and leans into the Uchiha, completely unthreatened by his reputation. To be fair, he's seen Itachi with baby drool in unpleasant places: it must dampen any threatening aura. 

“Puking helps,” Itachi tells the blond, lips twisting in a patented Uchiha smirk. Despite his teasing, he doesn't shake his brother's best friend loose. 

Naruto glares out of half-lidded eyes. The way he twitches slightly as the sun glints off Itachi’s hiatae erases any impact he may have had.

“Uchihas,” Naruto says with disgust, “Always so helpful.”

“Exceedingly,” Itachi agrees smugly as he effortlessly traps Naruto in a light genjutsu. One bout of forced vertigo later, Naruto pukes on the cobblestones outside his future office. Itachi glides smoothly into the tower before Naruto can process what’s happened. 

He’ll thank Itachi later. 

“He’s going to be insufferable,” Shikamaru complains as he falls into step with the Uchiha. Itachi hums a wordless asset. 

Shikamaru was likely waiting for Naruto, but it seems he’s decided Itachi is a more interesting companion for now.

“He’d be asleep otherwise,” Itachi counters. Clearly despite himself, Shikamaru smirks at the Uchiha’s words. 

“How troublesome,” Shikamaru groans, but there is a raw humor in the phrase. The duo winds the rest of their path silently and arrive at the Hokage’s office in quiet companionship.

Itachi is pleased. He’s heard the Nara is an unmatched shogi player, and he hasn’t had anyone worthy to play with since his missing nin days. 

The Hokage's office is flanked with two masked Anbu, as per usual, but the door is wide open and they don't twitch when Shikamaru meanders between them, so Itachi follows without invitation. They are distinctly less hostile than his last visit. 

“Oh good, it's Itachi,” Kakashi says cheerfully, like the other occupants of the room don't have eyes. Shikamaru grunts and mutters something. 

“And Shikamaru,” Kakashi quickly amends, crinkling one eye charmingly. 

Itachi doesn't pay much mind to his eccentric Hokage, too busy observing the little girl with a defiant chin next to Iruka. Before they arrived, she must've been all alone with her Hokage and the head of her school, but she looks anything but intimidated with her practical braid and stiff stance. She looks self-assured. 

This may work out yet.

Itachi knows it's often best to get on children's level when you speak to them, but he also knows geniuses are hardly ever truly children. So he does not do his new student the disservice of assuming she needs to be coddled in any way. Rather, he dives right in. 

“Today I will conduct an examination of your abilities,” As he speaks, Itachi walks slowly towards Kaiya, the cloak he wore for just this purpose billowing around his ankles, “We begin now.” With hardly a twitch, Itachi traps the seven-year-old in a genjutsu. 

It is mild and involves the other occupants of the room disappearing abruptly. He remains visible to her for one moment more, “Get to Training Ground Fourteen.” 

He does not say what the consequence for her failure will be. If she is at all familiar with the concept of a Genin test, she is well aware.

“You have until noon.” With that, Itachi disappears in a burst of flashing wings and sharp beaks.

Across the village, Itachi smirks as his shadow clone’s thoughts meld with his. As it burst into crows, his clone caught the beginnings of an undignified snort from Konoha’s Hokage.

Kakashi may be a famous instigator, but he'll come to remember just how mischievous Itachi can be. 

\------

Itachi will admit, he is impressed. 

He gave her a series of tests that could easily belong in the Chunnin exams. He expected her to fail at least a few--she's not even a Gennin after all--but she managed to pass them all, in one fashion or another. 

Kaiya drops into training ground sixteen minutes to noon. Her mocha hair is plastered to her forehead with sweat despite the chill in the air, and her little chest heaves violently with every breath, but she's grinning from ear to ear. It's the first time Itachi has ever seen her look anything but bored.

If she's truly the repressed genius everyone thinks she is, it's no wonder she's so detached. She likely hasn't been challenged in a long time.

“Excellent,” Itachi praises gruffly. Kaiya ticks one hip cockily and turns her exuberant eyes Itachi's way, silently asking him for her next task. Barely masked underneath her silent challenge, her energy buzzes clean and warm: she is thrilled with his compliment. 

Oddly, she reminds him of Sakura. Perhaps it's the unbridled confidence; likely, it's both that and her obvious enthusiasm, for all that it is not loudly displayed. 

“Your next assessment begins now.” Itachi says just as Lee drops down onto the girl. She manages to dodge, but just barely.

Kaiya’s mouth falls open as Lee happily begins chattering, “Yosh, how wonderful! You dodged most excellently, young Kaiya! But you will not get away so easily.” 

Lee lunges towards her in all his green jumpsuit glory--more slowly than he would've in a real spar--and Kaiya barely manages to dodge, clearly still startled. She shoots one frantic glance Itachi’s way, as if asking who this strange to man in front of her is.

“Never lose focus in a battle,” Itachi reprimands, tone mild. Kaiya flattens herself on the ground as her teacher berates her and Lee flies through the spot where she was previously standing. 

“An amazing display of youth once again, young Kaiya!” Lee cheers, slowly (compared to his normal speed) executing a flawless round-house that manages to clip Kaiya on the shoulder. The little girl rolls out of the way, breathes heavily for one second and comes up swinging. Her tiny face is scrunched in frustration and the confusion has bled out of her eyes. 

“Very good!” Lee praises, leaping back as the little girl viciously punches his abdomen. Lee could’ve very easily dodged it entirely, but it seems he’s a good teacher: he understands that students need to land a graze sometimes so they reach for a full hit. Itachi is not surprised by his perception. 

Itachi settles himself against a tree and allows himself to feel fond as his friend and his student spar. As Lee continues to shout encouragements Kaiya’s temper continues to climb; they will need to work on keeping a cool head in battle. Her enthusiasm is good, and her strength what one would expect from a seven-year-old, but her form is more wild than controlled. And Itachi does not want her to have the strength expected from a seven-year-old….Perhaps Sakura can teach her how to pack a punch, with the precise chakra control Kaiya naturally has. 

As Lee allows Kaiya to clip his shoulder, the bushy-browed man giggles out loud, clearly delighted, and Itachi feels something in himself loosen. Something unknot in the pit of his stomach that he didn’t even know was present. The joyful sound is a great medicine, it seems.

“Itachi-san!” Lee calls, catching one of Kaiya’s fists and gently spinning her off kilter, “Your student shows great promise!”

Kaiya pauses and blinks owlishly at the strange man, clearly surprised by his open praise. 

For the first time, Itachi spares a thought to her previous development. What exactly did Iruka and Kakashi tell her? What was she told when she skipped a grade? She must know she is smart, but she also sat--silent and friendless--in the back of Shino’s classroom. 

Ah yes, Itachi thinks as Kaiya continues to stare, the famous genius insecurity--they all have it. The weight of expectations and lack of developmental camaraderie is often too much.

So Itachi is more open than usual, “She does, Lee-san. That is enough for now.”

Lee immediately drops his fighting stance and bows low to the little girl; she barely reaches his head when he’s bent in half, “Thank you for the youthful spar, Kaiya-chan! I feel most invigorated!”

“You’re welcome?” Kaiya says faintly, glance nervously dodging towards Itachi once again. The Uchiha raises one brow pointedly and tips his chin towards Lee. Kaiya flushes and returns his bow.

“Thank you for the spar, Lee-sensei.”

“I look forward to our next one!” Lee says cheerfully, literally bouncing to a stand. Itachi rolls his eyes fondly.

“Lee will be teaching you taijutsu twice a week,” Itachi tells Kaiya. The little girl’s face scrunches up in an odd mix of confusion and hurt. 

“I thought you were my sensei.” Oh no.

“I am,” Itachi says gravely, briefly amending his previous decision to not coddle Kaiya. He kneels to her level, and catches her eyes as they attempt to avoid his gaze, “But I want you to have the best instruction in every area, and Lee is that.” Lee turns cherry red in Itachi’s peripheral vision, and the Uchiha resists the urge to smirk, “I am more than adequate if Lee is called away on a mission, but he will help otherwise.”

Kaiya nods shyly and bows again towards Lee, “Thank you for teaching me, Lee-sensei.”

Lee’s eyes water at her polite thanks, “I am most honored Kaiya-chan! Itachi-san and I will kindle your flame for fire!”

Itachi turns a misplaced chuckle into a slight cough, and makes a field decision that his sweet sister-in-law will likely love, “And you will be taught by another in chakra control. I will oversee the rest of your training.”

At that, Kaiya beams. Well, beams in the way Uchiha’s beam, with a half-smile and maybe-dimpled cheeks. His new student will certainly fit in. 

Yes, it seems the village children are not afraid of him at all. If Kaiya’s shining eyes are any indication, they just might genuinely believe he is a hero. 

How simple it must be to view the world in such black and white.


	12. Chapter 12

Kaiya is not enjoying herself. 

Well, okay, Kaiya concedes as sweat streams around her eyes like wet goggles, she is, in a fashion. But Lee-sensei is a monster.

Lee’s foot lands solidly in the center of her chest and his teeth literally sparkle in the sun as he shouts something about youth. Who does that?? 

Yes, he’s a raging monster. He was clearly clearly holding back on her test a few weeks ago, and since then it’s been nothing but sunrise pushups and scaling Hokage Mountain without the chakra she only sort of knows how to use. 

Still, Kaiya thinks as she successfully ducks on of Lee’s punches, even though she’s not an expert with her chakra, it would’ve been helpful as she  _ climbed a freaking mountain _ .

Kami. And all Itachi-sensei does is watch Lee-sensei fight her. Sometimes he even  _ smiles. _ He doesn’t even smile when his sister-in-law teaches Kaiya. He watches, sure, but it’s calculating. He even turns on his creepy eyes (yes, she knows they’re a doujutsu, but they’re creepy okay?) and watches her as she molds her chakra. He’s so dedicated, then. He brought a pretty lady who insisted Kaiya call her just “Hinata” with him last time (as if Kaiya is too young to know who Hinata-sama is, gods), and Hinata used her own doujutsu to watch.

But with Lee, it’s only ever the three of them. 

And when their lesson is over Itachi-sensei takes them out to lunch. Yeah, okay, taijutsu eats up more calories than most other jutsu, but  _ seriously? _

Adults are dumb, Kaiya thinks as she stuffs her mouth full of dango, Itachi-sensei too busy staring into Lee-sensei’s eyes to even notice. Really, really dumb. 

Lee stares back at Itachi, for once not spouting something about youth, and Kaiya resists the urge to just smash their lips together already.

They’re clearly in love, Kaiya thinks as her nose scrunches and Lee’s eyes actually glass over. It’s worse than when Chika-oba had that guy from the weapons shop bring her flowers for two weeks and insisted they were just friends. They were oblivious, but her senseis are worse. 

Whatever, Kaiya thinks as she slips her hand near Itachi-sensei’s elbow and he doesn’t even twitch, more dango for her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to YuliaLeafHill for the review :)


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait y'all! I've had to do some actual adulting the past two weeks...college ending is rough. Stay young, kids. Stay young.

Between teaching at the Academy one day a week, teaching or observing Kaiya for five, and spending time with his new niece and siblings, Itachi doesn’t have much free time. Therefore, it shouldn’t affect him very much that Lee has a mission. Sure, he has to lead Kaiya’s taijutsu training himself, but he can certainly keep up with the learnings of a seven-year-old, genius or not.

 

For some reason, though, Lee’s absence festers like a gaping wound. It’s the first time since Lee and Itachi have become friends that Lee’s gone for more than a few days; this mission is expected to take at least a month, and the days tick by painfully. 

 

It only takes Sakura seventy-two hours to realize something is wrong, but it takes her triple that to mention it. Really, Itachi is proud. The rosette has become a bit more calm since she became a mother. 

 

But only a bit.

 

“Alright, that’s it,” Sakura shouts, slamming one fist into the ground near Itachi’s leg. He doesn’t twitch, just raises one unimpressed eyebrow at her unnecessary splintering of his favorite training ground. Although her control is impressive; she manages to break the ground so it misses her husband and daughter entirely. (The whole Uchiha broad is out for Kaiya’s training today under the pretense that that Spring is finally in the air. Itachi knows it’s for him, but it’s sweet that they try to pretend he's an emotionally stable adult). 

 

“Yes?” Itachi asks dryly, regally pretending that nothing is amiss. One hip is not higher than the other on split ground, thank you; he wants to sit that way.

 

“You have been moping all week!” Sakura growls as she plants her fists firmly on her hips. Behind the kunoichi, Kaiya watches like she’s just discovered her real hero. A god, even. Perhaps pairing Sakura and Kaiya was not his best idea.

 

His lovely student further proves his misgivings by sweetly supplying, “He misses Lee-sensei, Sakura-sensei.”

 

The little girl's tone is like sugar but her eyes are like a hawk stalking prey as she watches Itachi for his reaction. Itachi resists the urge to sneer at his brat; he will not give her the satisfaction. He needs something more subtle...he will make Lee give her a taste of his daily training regimen when the bushy-eyed man returns.

 

At the vengeful thought, casual as it is, something akin to dread floods Itachi's veins like a poison. He's left feeling heavy and morose, though nothing physical changes and his dearest sister is still glaring--frustrated and expectant--at him. 

 

“Itachi-nii,” Sakura says, smooth as a deadly sword, “It’s okay to miss Lee. He's been a big part of your life since you came back.”

 

Itachi feels suddenly hot; like he's walking around the edge of a volcano and the steam is just a bit too much (an unfortunately familiar experience): from the tips of his toes to the tingling in his cheeks he feels consumed. 

 

“Aniki?” Sasuke asks frantically, shoving Sarada in his brother’s face. The baby cheerfully bops his nose with all the dexterity of her four-month-old body. At that, Itachi realizes his vision is a bit too focused to be ordinary, and likely much too red. Oops. His fight or flight has been a bit spotty since his reanimation.

 

“I am fine.” 

 

Sakura stomps her foot and glowers, “Itachi, I say this because I love you: you are acting more emotionally constipated than your brother and it's not cute.” Sasuke lifts his chin to nod along with his wife but promptly turns to a glare on the kunoichi, “Oh don't give me that. I love you but it's true.” 

 

Sasuke settles back against one of the training ground trees and cuddles Sarada close, brooding all the while. Itachi just barely hears the words “monster” and “mother” mumbled behind the baby's ebony locks as Sasuke pretends to ignore everyone but his precious daughter. 

 

On the other hand, Kaiya let's loose what can only be described as a cackle at Sakura’s words. Such a mistake introducing them. Kaiya can never meet Ino. 

 

As two determined gazes--one emerald and one crystal--stare his way, Itachi can only think it's times like these that he misses being feared.

 

“Missing someone does not bring them back any faster,” Itachi says sagely to the terrible twosome, back as stiff and prim as his words.

 

“Sensei,” Keiko groans will all the frustration of her seven years, eye rolling so dramatically she may as well abandon her orbs entirely, “We did the same thing in training for the last three days. It's been so boring.”

 

Itachi runs through the week in his head: Monday was basic genjutsu, Tuesday was supposed to be taijutsu but he didn't want to displace Lee’s work beyond basics, and Kaiya isn’t due to learn ninjutsu for a few more weeks so he'd decided to do extra genjutsu this week instead….oh no.

 

“Exactly.” Sakura says smugly at Itachi’s horrified expression, patting Kaiya on top of her chocolate-colored head in a show of approval. The brat preens like a domesticated tiger, vicious in her warmth. 

 

“I miss him,” Itachi says more to himself than his companions, eyes frantically catching Sasuke’s in a silent plea for help. His Otouto raises one brow before jumping in, as if to ask ‘where were you when I needed a rescue’, but cuts into the girl’s insanity all the same.

 

“I remember finally realizing I missed someone,” Sasuke says casually, brows furrowed in memory as he smooth’s Sarada’s locks, “it was….unpleasant.”

 

“Sasuke-kun?” Sakura asks, voice lithing in a kind and private way. She takes a half-step towards her husband, but pauses as Sasuke simply shuffles his daughter into a mocking stand and smirks.

 

“I didn't like the feelings, so I married her.” 

 

Sakura bounds the few steps separating them and swoops down to kiss Sasuke soundly. Although the man grumbles, he looks far too pleased to be truly upset. 

 

Itachi’s stomach bottoms out and he feels something on his face twitch at the honest words. 

 

And Kaiya, devil child that she is, completely ignores the scene, too busy side-eying Itachi in a completely unsubtle way. She wags one eyebrow and smirks in a perfect mix of his sibling’s most recent facial expressions.

 

She's officially banned from Sakura. 

 

\-------—

 

Half a week later, Itachi finds himself glaring balefully around his brothers full living room. On the far side, Naruto and Sasuke are holding their children and hardly bothering to pretend that they aren't oddly competing about their development. On the couch Sakura and Hinata are gossiping--excuse him--catching up. And nearest him, right at the foot of his chair, Kaiya is grinning like a deranged cat who's found her latest meal. 

 

(Suggesting that Sakura take a break from her mentoring was the poorest decision Itachi's made in quite awhile. Apparently, Kakashi had instilled some insane regard for Genin teams and senseis in his students (which really makes far too much sense when history is considered), which left Sakura all but foaming at the mouth for years to come. The incident is never to be thought of again: it not only resulted in continued training but dinner invitations. He hates himself.)

 

“Sensei,” the tiny monster croons, “I worked on something for you.”

 

Itachi’s eyes narrow so tightly he may as well be blind again, and because some god hates him, Kaiya speaks loudly and clearly enough for the women to hear. 

 

“How sweet!” Hinata exclaims, clapping her hands at the girl’s words. Naruto immediately latches on and Itachi is officially defeated before the battle even begins. Kaiya’s falsely-benevolent smile says she knows it as well as he. 

 

“What's sweet?” Fucking Hokages and their fucking-

 

“I have an idea for Itachi-sensei!” Kaiya supplied cheerfully, batting her eyelashes. Actually batting them. Someone took her kunoichi classes a bit too literally. Itachi always knew those lessons were a menace.

 

“What's that, Kai-chan?” Hinata asks, lavender eyes wide and genuinely curious. For all that the Hokage’s wife is a killer and a politician in her own right, she's every bit the gullible child he once knew at times. Her trust is normally endearing. Now, he has the urge to shove her out the front door. 

 

“I thought of what Sensei should do on his first date!” Kaiya answers happily, twirling her curly hair around one finger in a psychedelic dance. 

 

“Itachi on a date?” Naruto asks incredulously, “Who’d go out with him?” At Sakura’s hasty cough and Sasuke’s snort, Naruto at least has the grace to look abashed, “I mean…you're very attractive?”

 

“Just stop.” Sakura says, burying her face in her palms, “Hinata, make him stop.”

 

Hinata calmly ignores the scene, obviously well-versed in her husband’s particular brand of social awkwardness, “What's your idea, Kai-chan?” 

 

Itachi glares at his student, silently promising painful drills and dawn practices if she continues. Unfortunately, Kaiya is too young to remember Itachi as a missing-nin and far too familiar with the picture of him--neatly and subtly--stuffing himself with dango to take him seriously. He’s been far too docile with the girl.

 

“Well Lee-sensei likes training so much I thought they should do something physical, and Itachi-sensei likes food so much I thought they should eat. So they can go to a lake and have a picnic and go swimming! I asked my aunt about it and she said it sounded romantic,” Kaiya said with all the enthusiasm of her age and all the manipulation of someone much older. The unfortunate thing about helping raise a genius, Itachi thinks as the Uzumaki couple gapes, is that you never really know what stage of development they will be at in regards to different areas of life. It seems that Kaiya is in the pre-teen realm of antagonist romance a bit early.

 

“You're dating bushy brows?” Naruto finally exclaims, waving Boruto around like a confused white flag. The tiny blond scrunches his face up and lets out a mighty roar in protest. 

 

“Good job, Dobe,” Sasuke hisses as Sarada joins in the crying, disturbed by the sudden loud noises. 

 

“Oops,” Kaiya says sheepishly eying Itachi from the floor, expression genuine for the first time all night, “Sorry?”

 

For all that she’s sincere and strangely adorable, Itachi has been subjected to her manipulation far too much to respond kindly. 

 

“I think it's time you undertook social training. As a Clan Head, I am uniquely qualified to teach you how to behave yourself,” Itachi says evenly, ignoring the chaos around him in favor of letting his sweet little student know just what her moment of rebellion will cost her. His little spitfire simply narrows her eyes.

 

“Good. I missed the part of kunoichi classes. Apparently I need to know for seduction missions.”

 

Itachi’s false smile freezes in place as Kaiya stares defiantly back. He really shouldn't be surprised anymore; shinobi learn about darker things at younger ages, but Kaiya certainly goes straight for the throat at times. 

 

“Yes, well. We are in agreement,” Itachi says stiffly, uncomfortably seeking out his brother in a plea for stoic solace. Kaiya smirks to herself and all but visibly preens at her victory. Half a room away, Sakura and Hinata bounce their now calm children as Sasuke pointedly ignores Naruto’s rant about…whose child cried more easily?

 

Itachi needs a drink. He'll welcome a little inhibition at this point.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi friends: just letting you know that I will only be updating once a week for the next month due to NaNoWriMo and adulting. I have the next three chapters plotted out/written, so you'll definitely get your once a week even while I'm trying to crank out an original monster. Enjoy :)

Itachi is ashamed to say that he is caught completely unawares three times in one day. Years ago, he experienced the feeling of surprise so rarely that it was all but forgotten: it may as well have been an emotion that belonged solely to a rabbit. Kohona seems to have turned him into quite the stray bunny. 

 

The first surprise, predictably, involves Sakura. 

 

Four loud knocks and one lightly splintered wall past four am, Itachi yanks his front door open with a scowl.

 

“Itachi-nee,” Sakura says breathlessly, her clearly flustered state activating Itachi’s sharingan before he wholly comprehends her presence. Her hair is tied back and her loose post-maternity clothes have been traded in for a medic’s field uniform, “There’s a medical emergency in Suna because they’ve got too many poisons and not enough sense-” Sakura cuts herself off and takes a deep breath, “Sai and I have to leave immediately and Sasuke isn’t due back from his mission for two more days.” 

 

(Although Sasuke and Sakura are both on Hokage-mandated light duty, Kakashi had called Sasuke away for an intel gathering mission a few days before. Truthfully, Itachi’s younger brother had seemed equal parts relieved and sad to leave; he no doubt could use a bit of time outside the village.)

 

Itachi holds a hand up before his sister can utter another word, “I will watch Sarada. Go.”

 

Sakura launches herself into Itachi’s chest and squeezes hard enough to bruise, “Thank you! I can hardly imagine leaving her...we’ll be as fast as possible.” 

 

Were this another life, one where family had the luxury of coming before duty, Itachi would point out that he’s hardly qualified to babysit. He loves his little niece more than life, but his only experience with a baby came when he was barely more than a toddler himself. But Sakura already looks an unusual mix of sad and frustrated--pink hair rumbled and pack loosely tied as she turns away--and he understands her urge to leave her only child with family. He’s honored, if scared. 

 

“She’s in her crib,” Sakura shoots over her shoulder as she bends her knees in preparation for chakra-fueled leap, “Take care of her.”

 

“Always,” Itachi promises solemnly, earning himself an almost-grin from the stressed Kunoichi. It’s enough. 

 

Six hours later, after two fumbled feedings and one angry crying fit that may have not entirely belonged to Sarada, Itachi wraps his tiny niece into place on his chest. At five months, she’s capable of holding her own extremities up and eager to view the world, so he utilizes the cloth holder Sakura left him to face her outward, so that her tiny fists and hungry eyes can greet Konoha as they please. 

 

With a somewhat resigned sign Itachi sets out for Training Ground Fourteen, mentally preparing himself for all the strange looks he’ll receive as he travels to his student. Unfortunately, Shinobi speed and babies don’t mix well, so he’ll have to take the civilian route. 

 

Doubly unfortunately, it seems the women of Konoha are far from disturbed by the pretty picture he and Sarada make. 

 

“I’d let him attack me anyday,” A civilian woman whispers to her friend as he passes Konoha's newest eatery. The cafe is teeming with Konoha's young, Shinobi and civilian alike, and Itachi catches no less than three matching remarks. Coupled with the two he’d gotten when he walked past a flower shop, the three from random passerby, and the half dozen from a cackling Anko, his compliment count was well over a dozen for the morning. 

 

Or, well, Itachi thinks as a red-headed woman licks her lips. They aren’t compliments so much as leers. He suddenly feels much sorrier for women. 

 

Finally, Itachi rounds the corner that leaves the whole of urban Konoha behind. Ahead of him, trees and rock lines mark the beginning of the forests that house the Shinobi’s private practice spots. With the exception of a few (namely Anko), Shinobi will be quieter about his current predicament if he meets any before he finds his student. 

 

Itachi’s second surprise of the day is enough to make the Uchiha stumble. As he passes through Training Ground Twelve, a familiar chakra signature flares to life on the edge of his at-rest senses. One small pulse confirms: his tiny charge is already at war with a comrade. One whose chakra he’s desperately wished to feel for weeks. 

 

It seems Lee is back early. 

 

With just a touch of added speed, Itachi carefully holds Sarada’s vulnerable head in place as he rushes the remaining yards to his student and friend. 

 

“Most excellent, Kaiya-chan!” Itachi hears them before he sees them. He can’t help the genuine smile that bursts forth at the sound of Lee’s praise and Kaiya’s determined grunts. A little piece of his soul slips back into place, and the buzz under his skin settles into silence for the first time in nearly a month.

 

Itachi stops on the fringes of Training Ground Fourteen as one orange and green clad leg sings through the air and Kaiya flies into a tree. The girl rises swiftly, smiling where Itachi expects to find her scowling. It seems he’s not the only one who’s missed the bushy-browed man. 

 

Itachi carefully surveys the scene: three trees are splintered and there’s a tiny crater not far to Itachi’s left (likely courtesy of Sakura’s lessons), but Kaiya seems unharmed. Lee has a stitched cut on the apple of his left cheek and his right wrist and fist are wrapped differently than usual, but his stance doesn’t betray any pain and his body is turned--far too subtly for Kaiya to notice or counter--so that the small almost-Genin doesn’t accidentally strike the injury in her enthusiasm. The adjustment is likely more for Kaiya’s sake than Lee’s, Itachi thinks as he chest bursts with contentment, for Lee does not mind physical pain, but he never wishes to cause guilt in another. 

 

On his chest, Sarada gurgles in delight and gnaws on one pudgy fist, clearly feeling her uncle’s happiness. 

 

Kaiya manages to swing under Lee’s next kick and deposit a chakra-fueled one of her own on the meat of his thigh. Lee spins and stumbles, “Kaiya-chan, you have improved! I am proud.”

 

Although Lee did not technically call an end to the fight, Kaiya stops and flushes with pleasure, “Thank you Lee-sensei.”

 

“Well done, Kaiya,” Itachi says from the sidelines. Lee turns to him with a radiant smile, but the greeting dies on his lips as he faces the Uchiha. Itachi furrows his brows at Lee’s gaping mouth and resists the urge to smooth his hair down at the other’s man’s scrutinizing gaze. Kaiya beams as she darts her gaze from one man to the other. 

 

“Lee-sensei is home, Itachi-sensei!” Kaiya says helpfully with a Cheshire-grin, “You can take him on a date now!”

 

Lee’s mouth falls open even further and his round eyes grow to the size of saucers at the girl’s words. Maybe not so helpful after all. 

 

“Thank you, Kaiya-chan,” Itachi says, the honorific promising fire and brimstone, “For your useful observation.”

 

“Anytime,” Kaiya says cheerfully as she looks to the sky, “Sorry, Sensei! I have to go see Kakashi-sama now. He said he has something to teach me.” Kaiya disappears with a leap she couldn’t have made even the week before, and Itachi is torn between the urge to be proud of her and the urge to rip her grinning head from her prone body. Kami help Konoha when she’s grown. 

 

Shoulders tense with dread, Itachi turns his carefully blank gaze to Lee. The man is still red as an Uchiha’s eyes, and his gape doesn’t seem to have moved one inch since Kaiya first spoke. 

 

“Hello, Lee,” Itachi says softly when the pounding heartbeats become too painful to bear. Sarada tips her head back until her downy hairs brush Itachi’s chin at the strange tone in her uncle’s words, but she does not cry, simply observes. 

 

“Hi,” Lee chokes out, curling his body protectively around his injured wrist. Itachi’s body moves of its own accord, and he’s gently extracting the limb from its owner's grasp before he registers his own movement. 

 

“Should you be training so soon after your mission?” Itachi asks as he runs gentle fingers over the white bandages. He’s never wished for the Byakugan’s vision more before now; his eyes cannot see sinew and bone, torn muscles and ruptured vessels, for all that he wishes they could. 

 

Lee finally moves: his other hand rests over Itachi’s own, so that the Uchiha’s fingers are eclipsed by the perpetual warmth of the taijutsu master, “Kaiya-chan can not hurt me yet, even though she burns with youthful fire.” Lee says, but his usual enthusiasm is missing as slanted ebony eyes lock on round ones. 

 

Itachi is not accustomed to feeling tall; he and Sasuke are roughly the same height, and Kisame was nearly two of him. But Lee is all lean muscle and contained frame, for all that he is nearly pure physical power. His smooth hair brushes Itachi’s nose when they stand this close. Involuntarily, Itachi’s eyes drift shut as he leans into the sensation. 

 

Lee breathes sharply, cuts the air with the sound, but doesn’t move away; his forehead bumps lightly against Itachi’s own. 

 

Between them, Sarada squeals as they obstruct the outside world from her view. 

 

The men spring away as if burned. 

 

“I am glad you are not seriously harmed,” Itachi says stiffly, for once the one to avoid someone else’s gaze. For all that he is the genjutsu specialist, Lee’s eyes feel more powerful than his own in this moment. 

 

Lee grumbles something back, and somehow Itachi replies. In a daze, the men walk side-by-side back to village proper, but for the life of him, Itachi does not remember a single word they spoke. 

 

\--------

 

Itachi’s third surprise of the day is Ino Yamanaka. Not involves her, is her. Is her and her oddly mellow baby, Inojin, and her loud greeting as she all but shoves her way into Sakura and Sasuke’s home with a covered dish and a reinforced shoulder. 

 

Really, Kami is just fucking with him at this point. 

 

Absentmindedly, as he watches Ino plop Inojin onto the rug next to Sarada and take over the Uchiha’s kitchen, Itachi remembers that Sakura is on her mission with Ino’s husband. 

 

Three minutes and some meaningless babble later, Itachi finds himself eating a reheated casserole across from Ino. 

 

“I offered to watch Sarada,” Ino says casually, delicately eating her own smaller portion, “But Sakura said you had it handled. I know you can take care of one baby, but I remember Sakura’s stories: you can’t handle a kitchen.”

 

The words are said teasingly but not maliciously, and Itachi can’t help but feel touched at the loud woman’s brand of care. She not only trusts him with her best friend’s child, but around hers as well, and she cares enough to make sure he eats properly. 

 

Itachi remembers his own mother’s capable and loving personality well: the women of Konoha are truly a gift. 

 

“Thank you, Ino-san,” Itachi says politely and firmly, “I confess I had not thought of dinner for myself.”

 

Ino scoffs even as she smiles, clearly pleased, “Men. You fed Sarada, right?”

 

“Yes,” Itachi says, turning to watch his little niece push herself into a half-arch reminiscent of a basking seal, “She is quite loud when she wants something. I could not forget if I wished to.”

 

Ino laughs outright at that, “Just like forehead. Inojin’s more like Sai than me.”

 

Itachi can’t help but agree. The tiny boy is right on par with Sarada developmentally--six months to her five--but he seems content to watch his playmate roll around rather than join. 

 

“He will change as he grows,” Itachi says.

 

“Nah,” Ino says softly, smiling at her son, “I hope he doesn’t.”

 

Itachi knows the feeling: Sarada is light and cheerful, already determined and loud. She is more Haruno for all that she looks Uchiha, and Itachi knows neither he nor his brother would wish for anything else. It’s past time the old clans felt some new blood.

 

“You’re a good uncle,” Ino says through his reverie, smiling at his startled expression, “I believed Sakura because it made her happy at first, but I can see it myself now.”

 

“Thank you, Ino-san.” Itachi all but whispers, strangely shy. He cannot remember the last time someone outside his family or Lee complimented him so easily.

 

“You’d be a good boyfriend too,” Ino says slyly. Itachi balks for half a second, worried this is some odd proposition, before the last few weeks fall into place in his mind. Of course, both Sakura and Hinata are some of the kunoichi's best friends. Likely half the women in the village know about Kaiya’s charming suggestion. 

 

Ino barks out a laugh at his not quite hidden panic, “Calm down, Itachi-san. I’m not trying to jump you. But your brother and Sakura won’t both be out of the village again for a long time, and I heard Lee got home today.”

 

“He did,” Itachi says, and Ino smirks predatorily. 

 

“Go. I’ll watch Sarada. If you want to try something without someone making you, it’s now or never,” Ino offers casually, like it’s perfectly normal to play matchmaker for Konoha's most unlikely couple. 

 

For the mind-game clan, it may just be. 

 

Itachi folds his hands on the tabletop and considers one of the dozen ways he could respond: he’s too damaged for a relationship, Lee is too bright for him, Sakura and Kaiya made the attraction up, he must focus on reintegrating himself...but he knows the village’s greatest mind-specialist will see right through him, and he never makes a move he knows will automatically fail.

 

And, if he’s honest with himself, her words are as enticing as they are terrifying.   
With one lingering look, tense shoulders, and a grateful nod, Itachi disappears in a swirl of leaves.

 

He’s been surprised by others enough today; it’s his turn to surprise himself.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonus baby chapter :) Review for more extras, my loves!

Lee stares. 

 

He stares as the water boils for his tea; stares out his window as bluebird turns to periwinkle high above; stares at the worn carpet beneath his feet and the frayed stitch on his leg warmers as he plops onto his couch. 

 

And he stares at his arm, still encased in white--now more dirt-speckled than immaculate--and wonders what is wrong with him. 

 

Lee knows he’s a bit strange. He knows that he has a bit too much hero worship and a bit too much energy in him for the average person to find endearing. It hasn’t bothered him for a long time; not since he gained a mentor and two best friends and a dozen precious people. He knows he’s loved and he knows he’s a taijutsu master...Sometimes it’s just hard to accept. It’s hard to accept when he considers the jeers his now-friends once sent him in the Academy, and the talk her overheard from all manner of sensei’s about how truly sad his dream was. He still hears their voices sometimes, and for all that he buries them beneath layers of true joy and enthusiasm, they are still there, waiting to peek out. 

 

But they motivate him. When he wishes to stop on the eight hundred and eighth push-up, he hears his classmate’s mother remark on his uselessness, and he makes it to one thousand. When his knuckles are bloody and his knees are screaming, he hears the mocking jeers towards his chosen uniform and he climbs another ten yards. They motivate him. Until they don’t. 

 

Until he notices someone being kind to him--kinder than they are to another--and he thinks for half a second they may like him as something more. Something more than an odd taijutsu master and a good friend. Then the voices spark to life--quick as the catalyst of a forest fire--and he’s alone again. Alone in his head and alone in his heart. 

 

No one can ever love Konoha’s strangest ninja, not in that way. 

 

So he resigns himself to midnight runs and mid-morning friend visits; to goddaughters and almost-nephews. He resigns himself to chosen family, and the future he can see makes him happy. 

 

Then Itachi Uchiha breaks the line of damp trees, looking impossibly at ease with his littlest relative strapped to his firm chest. Much more than Lee’s wrist aches in that moment; infinitely more. 

 

He allows himself one moment to want, to wish with all his determined heart for a warm body to wake next to, before the voices sing their most familiar melody. 

 

He stares and he strikes: he will be happy with what he has.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter of pure fluff, because we all need a little after the hell that is Trump becoming president. Enjoy the LGBT happiness. We fucking deserve it

Itachi breathes with such visceral fear that he expects his lungs to be obstructed. He forgets for one beat that his body is healthy, expects the motion to bring wet sounds and staggered breaths with it. But the air moves into his lungs smoothly and he breathes out easily; he is not the man who died years ago. He is a new being, and this is his second chance. 

 

With that, Itachi knocks on the cheerfully-painted door in front of him. Although he’s never been to Lee’s apartment before, it was more than easy to find. Not only because Itachi could follow Lee’s energy a thousand miles nowadays, but because it’s the only home of its kind: the only one with a unique door and a welcome mat in a famously-stoic shinobi complex. 

 

On the other side of the bright wood, Itachi feels Lee’s chakra freeze just shy of the door. If the solid wood did not obstruct them, Itachi could reach forward bare centimeters and take Lee’s flesh in his palms; caress the lips he’s stared at one too many times, for all that he was humorously oblivious to his own feelings. 

 

It seems Lee takes a breath of his own before answering Itachi’s knock. 

 

“Itachi-san!” Lee says with false cheer, round eyes wary as they rake Itachi’s nervous form, “Is everything okay?”

 

“Everything is fine, Lee,” Itachi says more smoothly than he feels, “Ino-san offered to watch Sarada-chan so that we could talk.”

 

Lee physically balks, and the voice he uses is far far too timid for Itachi’s liking, “Talk?”

 

“It will be...beneficial, I hope,” Itachi says gently, allowing himself to reach forward and caress Lee’s shoulder for half a heartbeat. Lee smiles, shinobi-quick for all that it is pained, and steps aside to allow Itachi into his home.

 

The inside is so truly Lee it’s almost comical. Various sizes of ankle weights line the far wall (so many that Itachi is surprised the foundation holds), and the half-counter separating the kitchen from view is littered with over a dozen pictures. There’s a threadbare blanket on an equally worn couch, and not a spot of dust seems out of place for all that it is clearly well-loved. 

 

It’s distinctly den-like, and Itachi wants nothing more than to curl up in the corner with some good tea, a better book, and the weight of Lee at his side. 

 

But he’s getting a bit ahead of himself, he knows. 

 

“Is it about Kaiya-chan?” Lee asks as he slips past Itachi and into the kitchen, deftly pouring still-steaming tea into a cup for Itachi. The Uchiha takes it with a soft smile and an uttered thanks, truly grateful for the way it warms him outside-in.

 

“No, Kaiya-chan is well,” Itachi assures, mildly amused by the way Lee fidgets with his own cup and refuses to meet Itachi’s eyes, “It is about us.”

 

Lee drops his cup.

 

“Lee?” Itachi exclaims, deftly vaulting to Lee’s side of the counter. His sandals crackle on the spilled glass but he pays them no mind as he lifts Lee’s own barefoot form to sit on the countertop. The taijutsu master simply stares, clearly distressed. 

 

“Lee,” Itachi says softly, dropping his hands from Lee’s biceps so that one rests just under his left elbow and the other cups his injured wrist, “Did you cut yourself?”

 

“No, Itachi-san,” Lee says timidly, not meeting Itachi’s eyes. 

 

The Uchiha’s narrow.

 

“I think we’ve moved past ‘san’, don’t you agree?” Itachi asks wryly, caressing Lee’s wrist with his own long fingers. Lee draws in a breath sharp enough to strengthen kunai. 

 

“Yes.”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Yes, Itachi,” Lee whispers, eyes darting fast as a hummingbird’s wings as they evade the Uchiha’s own. But Itachi has spent his whole life perfecting the art of capturing a gaze. 

 

Itachi is not one for playing games, and he is quite used to getting what he fights for, so he does not bother to mince words. 

 

“I wish to court you.”

 

If Lee were standing he would surely have fallen, if the full-body jerk he gives at the words are any indication, “Court?”

 

Itachi purses his lips thoughtfully, “I apologize, I have not updated myself on modern terminology. Truthfully, I have not considered romance since I was first told about my inevitability for an arranged marriage as a child. Is there another word you would prefer I use?”

 

“No,” Lee chokes out, clutching the counter hard enough to splinter, “Court is fine.”

 

For the first time Itachi allows himself to consider his greatest fear: he has misread their relationship, and Lee will want nothing to do with him. 

 

Itachi takes a careful two steps back and says, deliberately slow and even, “Please do not feel any pressure to agree to such a situation, whatever it is called.”

 

Lee stares at him like he’s grown a second head, “I don’t understand.”

 

“Don’t understand?” Itachi asks, confused, “Is it because we are both male? Shinobi don’t often care about such things, and I am confident that my brother can repopulate-”

 

“No!” Lee shouts, shoulders so tense they’re masquerading as ear muffs, “Why me?” Lee shrinks back as he utters the words, curls in on himself in a desperate bit to seem smaller, less unassuming. It’s the subconscious reaction of a formerly abused child. It makes Itachi want to commit murder. 

 

And there is the taijutsu master few see, Itachi thinks sadly. Few see his genius and fewer see through his front, but perhaps none have ever seen the genuine insecurity that lurks beneath every hard-won day.

 

“Entirely the wrong question,” Itachi says gravely, determined to bring back the cheerful man he knows, “You are kind and hardworking, free with your time and freer with your love. You are a taijutsu master and a war hero; a close friend of the future Hokage with a positive man. I am a barely-reformed murderer. You are far too good for me.”

 

Lee’s eyes well with tears as they often do, but for once they are not of training passion but of genuine, deep-seeded emotion. Itachi smiles and steps forward again, hears the glass shards protest at his movement and couldn’t care less as Lee watches his hungrily. 

 

“Lee,” Itachi whispers, a hand-span away from Lee’s own face, “May I kiss you.”

 

Lee squeaks in a rather undignified way, one Itachi probably shouldn’t find endearing, and nods jerkily. 

 

Itachi allows himself to smile, to carefully reach around Lee’s head, brush his hair away, and cup one rosy cheek. To savor the moment as Lee barely dares to breath and the rush of blood in Itachi’s ears eclipses any sound outside their private bubble. To revel in the smooth skin and warm temperature of the man--the wonderful, impossible man-- who sees past his past transgressions.

 

Lee makes a sound low in his throat, one of longing, and Itachi moves without thought. He molds his lips to Lee’s own as easily as he breathes.

 

Lee’s eyelashes brush the indent of Itachi’s cheek as they close, vaguely ticklish, and their noses bump awkwardly with most movements. But Lee’s lips are unfathomably soft under their salty sheen and Itachi can barely detect anything physical under the wash of pure emotion he feels. 

 

He’s kissed many; he’s fucked a dozen; and he’s murdered nearly a thousand. He is well-versed in physicality, and intimacy for him has always been a quick byproduct of war and aggression. One to release frustration and nothing else. 

 

But this. This is ambrosia in its highest form. 

 

He doesn’t need to make love to Lee--for it would not be simply sex--or even ever feel Lee’s lips beneath his own again, for all that the absence would be painful. This one moment of pure emotion could sustain him for all eternity. 

 

Lee breaks his reverie with a ragged breath, leaning mere centimeters away to speak, “You are worthy, too.”

 

Somehow the words creep straight into Itachi’s soul.

 

Itachi carefully wraps Lee in his arms, mindful of his injury, and tucks the shorter man firmly into his chest. Lee’s own arms slip around Itachi’s waist and his fingers play with the hem of Itachi’s  
standard shinobi-wear, ignorant of the fire their incite.

 

“I will be,” Itachi whispers to his man--to the air and the universe around them. Against Itachi’s collarbone, Lee’s lips curve. 

 

“You are.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lil' more fluff under all the seriousness, because clearly we need it.

The Hokage's tower gleams a brilliant orange-gold in the afternoon sun; at its feet, children play ninja accompanied by a symphony of high-pitched giggles; at its helm, an Anbu looms-- purposely visible as they rarely are, a stark reminder for who lies within.

Itachi feels a headache threatening to break.

"It's not that bad?" Naruto offers beside him, but the phrase comes out more a question than a reassurance. 

"The last experience I had with Clan Heads and Council resulted in a mass murder," Itachi says wryly as he contemplates the pros and cons of skipping today's Council meeting. Pro: he won't have to see people he hates and he could go collect Sarada from Lee. Con: there could be another mass murder.

Dramatic? Maybe. Wrong? Probably not.

Beside him, Naruto laughs nervously, "If you go you can make it better? Fight for a brighter future." The future Hokage looks genuinely cheerful as he finishes, as if he's inspired himself. On the other hand, Itachi intimately understands why his brother refers to the man as Dobe. 

"Ah, Itachi-san!" And he's officially stuck.

Kakashi pats Itachi roughly on the shoulder as he passes by and utilizes the momentum to shove both the Uchiha and the Uzumaki into the tower ahead of him. Scarred eyes twinkle madly all the way, blatantly gleeful in the havoc they are about to reek.

Well, the council meeting will certainly be more interesting that it was when Itachi was a child, if for no other reason that the Hokage is a bit more....eccentric. 

Itachi isn't necessarily bothered when he passes into the Council’s chamber and Naruto and Kakashi veers immediately for the front, but he is left feeling a bit unpleasant. Like the sudden solace is unwelcome for once, for all that it is familiar.

The feeling lasts all of three seconds before one of the Konoha Twelve breaks in with their weird group-care dynamic. 

"Itachi! Over here," Ino gestures emphatically to the chair beside her, Shikamaru already firmly lodged on her other side looking even more put-out than usual. Itachi doesn't blame him; the Nara’s favorite phrase certainly belongs in this room. 

 

With cool dignity, Itachi makes his way past the Hyuuga’s (Hiashi and his frown-turned-wrinkles are familiar enough, but the woman who can only be Hinata’s sister brings a comforting newness), a glasses-clad Abarume, and an always-feral pair of female Inuzuka, careful to hide how grateful he is to see the Yamanaka-Nara duo. 

 

In the back corner, Tsunade seems to be taking a nap. As both the last of the Senju and a former Hokage, it’s no wonder that she’s not particularly present. 

 

“Ino-san,” Itachi greets, folding himself into the offered chair, “Nara-san.”

 

Shikamaru waves his fingers in a half-salute, somehow melding further with the wood of his chair. 

 

“He doesn’t like these meetings,” Ino confesses, lips barely moving, “Everyone tries to use his knowledge as one of the Hokage’s advisors against him.” With a mischievous grin and a normal tone, Ino continues, “They don’t succeed, of course. He’s too smart for that, and when he’s not, I get to have fun.”

Once again, Itachi is struck by just how truly terrifying the women of Konoha are. 

 

“It’s best that I don’t ask questions, then,” Itachi says wryly.

 

Ino turns to him, delighted, “Did you just make a joke? Oh, I can’t wait to tell Forehead.”

 

Any possibly reply is cut off by a brief surge of chakra from the Hokage. Shikamaru turns his chin to the front with a barely audible groan while Ino all but vibrates in excitement. Itachi regrets coming.

 

“As usual, the Hokage’s business will wait. What concerns do you have?” Kakashi asks in a clear and calm tone. Itachi is...surprised, for lack of a better term. Not necessarily at Kakashi’s behavior--he knows his old taichou has grown into his role--but at the question. He only attended a handful of council meetings as the Uchiha heir before defecting, but the third Hokage was far from open. He ran the meetings of the Greater Council--that of the Clan Heads--with barely stifled annoyance. He informed them of the bare minimum and moved on.

 

Well, Itachi though, involuntarily relaxing somewhat, perhaps there won’t be another murder, after all. 

 

The Abraume speaks unprompted, “A group of Academy students attempted to break into the compound last week. They had been dared to find their sensei’s home. Why do I know this? My nephew is their sensei. They were not easily detected because one had the Byakugan. They disrupted one of our hives.”

 

Itachi has never heard an Abarume speak so much. It’s almost as interesting as the visibly calming breath that Hiashi Hyuuga takes before his daughter speaks. 

 

“We apologize on behalf of my young cousin, Abarume-sama,” Hanabi says. Her voice is cooler than Hinata’s, more regal than poised, “The culprit will be found and punished accordingly.”

 

If Itachi knows the clan at all, the child likely already has been. But the Hyuuga never reveal their whole hand. 

 

“Inform the Aburame Clan when the punishment has been administered. Is everyone satisfied?” Kakashi asks. To those who don’t know him well, he seems a composed Hokage. To those who have run missions with him before, he is clearly bored out of his mind. 

 

At the Aburame's nod, signifying the discussion’s end, Chouza Akimichi speaks up, “As you all know, the Akimichi Clan owns many eateries. Since the war ended, we have seen a rise in theft from civilians. We do not know the best way to dissuade them without causing some sort of panic,” Chouza’s eyes drift to Itachi, and he has a brief but strong inclination that he will not like what comes next. He had an Akimichi for a teammate once--one of the slightly longer lived Genin teams he belonged to--and he remembers their smothering way of simultaneously making you feel like you ate something pleasant and it will soon give you indigestion. “Uchiha-san, I would like the advice of the Konoha Police Force.”

 

All movement in the council room stills. It’s as if someone has cast a time-space jutsu on their little bubble of Konoha, forever trapping Kakashi’s wide-eye glee alongside Naruto’s emerging smirk and the rather undignified choking noise Tsunade gives. Well, she’s not asleep then. 

 

Still, Chouza’s gaze is firm and deliberate. He knows what he has asked. 

 

“The Konoha Police Force has not existed for over a decade,” Itachi says, emotionless. Shikamaru smoothly straightens from his slump, eyes sharp and wary as they lock on the silent battle between Itachi and his best friend’s father.

“With your return, they could exist again,” Chouza says confidently. It’s hard to rattle a man who can grow to the size of a god and rivals a house on a poor day.

 

He considers the Akimichi; his unruffled manner and deliberate way of speaking. Chouza knows what he has brought up, and he knows where. Itachi should not be as surprised by the careful planning as he is: the man spent his life on a team with a Nara. 

 

And as much as Itachi wants to balk at the suggestion, the Nara are typically five steps ahead of everyone. Even him. So Itachi turns towards Shikamaru and tilts his head just a hairs breath. The young Nara straightens further at the silent bid. 

 

“The Uchiha Compound likely has records of civilian conflict still, Uchiha-san. With the wars, most of the Hokage’s records have been damaged.”

 

Kakashi’s khol colored eyes are watching Itachi with something like delight. It would be the perfect time for him to intervene, with the mention of both a dead organization and his station’s records. Predictably, he does not.

 

“I will look for such records immediately, Akimichi-san,” Itachi says politely. Chouza does not take the hint. Surprisingly, neither does the young Hyuuga. 

 

“The Byakugan could help a police force as much as a Sharingan. I know cousins who would be eager to help rebuild.” Hinata’s sister says, her lavender eyes a challenge where they lock with Itachi’s. 

 

Before he can speak, the last voice he wants to join the fight does just that. 

 

“I ignored more trouble-makers than I should’ve because we had bigger problems. We don’t anymore. Bring the brat-pack back,” Tsunade says cheerfully, her words still a command for many in the room, “We could use them.”

 

“Should we vote, then?” Kakashi asks cheerfully before Itachi’s subtly floundering mouth can take shape, “All those in favor of restoring Konoha’s Police Force, headed by Uchiha Itachi, say aye.”

 

Predictably, the vote is unanimous. As the group moves onto more business, some trivial and some serious, he can’t give any of it a bit of attention, though a part of him wants to. He’s too busy feeling like his reality just got shoved in a blender. 

 

\-------------------------

 

Lee opens the door to his apartment with a wide smile and a giggling Sarada, helpfully waving the baby’s hand at her uncle before he comes fully into view. 

 

Itachi tries to look appropriately cheered; clearly, he fails, as not only does Lee’s smile turn into a half-frown, his niece’s little giggles turn into a shrewd glare. 

 

She’s more her mother’s child every day. 

 

“Itachi? Was the meeting un-youthful?” Lee asks, deftly stepping aside so Itachi can slump--with dignity and grace, thank you--through the door.

 

“That is an apt way to describe it, yes,” Itachi says tiredly, absentmindedly kissing Lee’s forehead as he grabs for Sarada. The taijutsu master flushes a fetching plum, and the day gets just a bit brighter. 

 

“Tea?” Lee stammers, rushing into the kitchen before Itachi can agree. Sarada’s little giggle comes back. 

 

“Lee-kun is quite silly, isn’t he, Sarada-chan?” Itachi whispers, bouncing the little girl as he follows his...boyfriend? Oh, he needs to stop that line of thought before his head aches more today.

 

“Is it classified?” Lee asks as he sets water to boil, cheeks still faintly tinted but voice at its normal volume. 

 

“No, at least not if I don’t choose to make it so,” Itachi says tiredly, “The Council voted to reform the Konoha Police Force.”

 

Lee’s whole body lights up, “Oh, how wonderful! The citizens of Konoha will be most grateful for the protection of--” Abruptly, Lee cuts himself off and folds his shoulders inward, as if anticipating a reprimand. 

 

Itachi waits half a beat for Lee to continue, but the bushy-browed man makes no further sound.

 

“Lee,” Itachi says gently, carefully moving forward to caress the man’s shoulder, “Please do not change your genuine reactions. They bring me joy.”

 

“Oh,” Lee breathes. Fast as a hummingbird’s wings, he plants a kiss on Itachi’s cheek and turns back to the tea. Itachi takes a step closer, until his chest is brushing Lee’s arm and back and he moves. 

 

Though the Itachi of a lifetime ago, or even a few months ago, wouldn’t open up so easily, Itachi wants to share his problems with Lee. He wants that cheerful optimism to rub off on him, so he continues unprompted, “I was startled. I had not given any thought to reinstating the Police Force, and I don’t know why Kohona never did. It doesn’t have to be run by an Uchiha. I am not sure civilians will feel safe if I am the one protecting them.”

 

Sarada rubs her chubby cheek into Itachi’s collarbone, clearly understanding the melancholy tone if not the words themselves. 

 

With an uncharacteristic frown, Lee firmly turns cups Itachi’s cheek, “You may have to prove your good will to them, but I know they will appreciate your protection eventually. Everything worth having takes work.”

 

Itachi does not know how he managed to get so ridiculously lucky. 

 

“I agree.” Itachi plants a careful kiss on the tip of Lee’s nose and a longing one of his lips, as a sealed promise to the words. Lee kisses his jaw in return, and not even the weight of his tiny niece is more comforting.

 

He will worry about details tomorrow. He has siblings to help, a maybe-love, and more than one ally on the Council. For the first time in his life, he does not have to succeed alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up, Karin makes a come-back.
> 
> Don't forget to leave feedback. It motivates :)


	18. Chapter 18

Itachi carefully cups the back of Sarada’s head and dips her little body under the faucet. Unhelpfully, she claps her arms down hard, drenching Itachi and the kitchen floor in one move. 

He’d find it amusing, if bathtime caused the destruction of one of his siblings rather than himself. 

“Trouble, Aniki?” Sasuke asks mischievously, gliding into the house. Although he’d felt his brother the moment he’d stepped onto Clan grounds, Itachi had hoped to be in a less messy position when they greeted one another. 

“She is not nearly as troublesome as you were, Otouto,” Itachi responds, carefully lifting Sarada with the fluffy towel draped over his arm, “You hated water. Like a cat.”

Barely upright, Sarada squeals happily and all but bowls headfirst out of Itachi’s arms to get to Sasuke. 

Sasuke chuckles, briefly but warmly, and accepts his daughter with eagerness, “Are you giving Itachi-oji trouble, Sarada-hime? Did Mama leave him to fend for himself?” 

“Mama is on a mission,” Itachi says dryly. Sasuke’s body tightens like a twinged chord.

“She’s on leave,” Sasuke growls, “I’ll kill Sensei myself.”

“Calm, Otouto,” Itachi says firmly, busying himself with cleaning Sarada’s makeshift bath, “Suna had an outbreak. They developed a poison they could not handle. She is not fighting, and Sai is with her.”

Although he claims to hate the ink-user, Sasuke’s shoulders droop from their wound state at the words, “Hn. Stubborn woman.”

“She is,” Itachi agrees, nodding to his niece, “Your daughter will be too. She is spirited.”

“Yes,” Sasuke agrees, smirk returning full force, “Thank you for watching her, Aniki.”

“I would not leave her,” Itachi says, poking his brother gently on the forehead, leaving behind a dot of water like a phantom’s kiss, “Do you require medical attention?”

Sasuke shakes his head. At Itachi’s pointed stare, he huffs, “I have not been caught on an intel-gathering mission since I was a genin.”

“Your wife will come for me if you are not both safe,” Itachi teases, clapping his brother on the shoulder.

“You’re not afraid, are you Aniki?” Sasuke mocks. 

It falls short at Itachi’s serious, “Of Sakura? Of course. You should be, too.”

As if on cue, Sarada happily boops her father on the nose. 

 

\---------------------

 

“Sensei,” Kaiya says hesitantly between lunging katanas, chocolate-colored braid matted to her back with sweat. Itachi raises his glasses-clad face from the scroll on the police force’s founding and pointedly tilts his head, prompting the child to continue. “Are you mad at me?”

Itachi had honestly been expecting the question for much longer, for all that he hoped his mischievous little prodigy wouldn’t ask it. Though that is unfair: he is glad she feels comfortable enough with him to reveal something of herself. Perhaps she will not be as damaged as he and Kakashi are, he thinks as he calmly turns the documents face-down. 

“No, Kaiya, I am not,” Itachi says, gesturing for her to come sit with him. Eagerly, she drops her form and drops--knees first--onto the shaded grass, “Why do you ask?”

“You missed practice twice this week, and now you’re reading.” Guiltily, Itachi rolls the scroll on his lap closed entirely. 

He removes his glasses for good measure, and carefully locks on the torn little face in front of him, “I have let Clan duties get in the way of your training as of late, and that is unfair. I apologize.”

Kaiya’s eyes fall to the ground and she picks at a blade of grass, “It’s okay, Sensei.”

“It is not. I brought something to use tomorrow, but we can push it up a bit,” Itachi says firmly, dragging a small packet out of his satchel of scrolls. Kaiya’s happy beam turns into a confused pout. 

“Paper?”

“A shinobi looks underneath,” Itachi says sagely, “It is not ordinary paper.” Carefully, Itachi extracts just one square and sends a beat of chakra to his fingertip. It turns to ash. 

“Chakra paper,” Kaiya breathes, practically glowing in her eagerness. 

“Take only one,” Itachi warns, offering the bundle to his student. 

She extracts more like three, but Itachi does not scold her. She is right to be excited. 

With a grin and a burst of young chakra bright as sunlight, Kaiya’s paper crumples to dirt. 

“Earth affinity, then,” Itachi says, pleased. Kohona is a village that caters easily to earth style, with it’s many trees and rocky fields. It will be easy to teach her here.   
Inexplicably, Kaiya looks disappointed. 

“Who will teach me?” Kaiya whispers, bottom lip suspiciously jutting out. Something inside, long forgotten, faintly stirs at the sight. A place Sarada has nudged lately; a place previously reserved for dark haired little brothers. Itachi firmly squelches the intrusion. 

“Me, of course,” Itachi says soothingly, “I have a repertoire of all styles. My sharingan does not only copy fire techniques.”

With a sunshine grin and speed far exceeding her station, Kaiya vaults to a stand and wraps her tiny arms around Itachi in a vice-like grip, “Can we practice today, Sensei?”

Itachi wills his startled form to soften and calmly pats his student’s back, the dam of fondness too strong to quell now, “Of course, Kaiya-chan. I know just the thing.”

 

\-----------------------

 

In the two weeks that Sakura is gone, Itachi passes his days much this way: teaching Kaiya her first ninjutsu, eating dinner with Sarada and his brother, and slowly integrating Lee into his day-to-day routines. 

Although they have not gone on a proper date yet (first due to Sarada and then due to a mission of Lee’s), when they are both able, they have fallen into a pattern of sorts. 

Namely, it consists of one of them pretending they have an errand of some kind, the other inviting them to tea, and a grand finale of the charade as they dissolve into hours long conversation. 

It is...peaceful. Soothing in a way that nothing ever has been. Even Sasuke, for all that he inspires, motivates, and comforts Itachi, has never been one to encourage an inner peace in the man. Somewhat ironically, for all his boisterousness, Lee is.

Unfortunately, peace never lasts long in a hidden village. 

“It’s sweeter than I normally drink, but I thought of you when I tried it,” Lee says shyly, rapturously watching as Itachi takes the first sip from his tea cup. The blend is an oolong variety--one not found in the Land of Fire--lovingly bought and transported during Lee’s latest mission. Itachi almost feels like blushing at the attention and intention behind the gesture. Almost. 

“Thank you, Lee,” Itachi murmurs, smiling gently over the cup’s rim, “It is quite good. Would you like me to make you something else?”

“No, no!” Lee says, more towards his public volume, “I will not be wasteful! If I don’t finish my cup, I will-”

“Then you will get something you actually like, because the tea is a gift not a mission.” Itachi says firmly, careful to inject the perfect mix of sternness and kindness. 

Lee flushes from his roots to his chin, as he often does, and smiles sheepishly. 

“I don’t want to be wasteful,” Lee says softly, mouth curled in the barest hint of discomfort. 

For all that he was born a clan heir, he was also a missing nin, and Itachi is well acquainted with Lee’s particular brand of guilt. So, Itachi lets go of his cup to caress Lee’s chin over the tiny square table, locking their gazes, “You are not a young orphan anymore and you are not in the field. Occasionally wastefulness is worth it for happiness, as long as it does not become gratuitous.”

Lee nods, but his eyes shift to Itachi’s lips with the movement and don’t shift back. 

Itachi feels a rush of anticipation he’s never felt with past lovers; one where being shamelessly regarded feels empowering rather than annoying. So with a visible smirk just for Lee, Itachi leans forward and melds their lips together. 

For all that it’s been weeks since their joint confession, and they’ve kissed dozens of times, they’ve only approached passionate once or twice. Most of their kisses have been the chaste ‘goodbye’ kind, perhaps the meaningful ‘be safe’ kind. 

This one, however, is a playful kind, and it’s positively scandalous in comparison to the rest. Itachi blames this change for his uncharacteristic lack of awareness.   
Lee lets out a tiny whimper as Itachi’s tongue slides between plumpness to gently prod the other. Far from gracefully, Itachi guides Lee via his mouth around the table, until they’re standing over Itachi’s chair, locked together and completely unawares of how they got there. Itachi slides his hand down firm muscles to smooth the caress of Lee’s spine, gently tugs until nothing but a breath could fit between them. At the tiny jolt, Lee bites Itachi’s lip and runs his palm across Itachi’s collarbone, startled. Itachi’s other hand slides lower, ready to lift Lee onto the table and--

“I’m back bitches, just in time for a show!” Karin crows, slamming Itachi’s front door open and shamelessly leering as the two men spring apart. She’s completely unperturbed by the four shuriken that cut off a few strands of her hair and ignores Itachi’s sharingan and growl completely, too occupied with a bright-red stammering Lee. 

Karin’s grin is positively feral, made even more intimidating by her flame-colored hair, like a lion melded with a forest fire. 

“You must be Lee-kun,” Karin croons, hips swaying as she stalks towards Lee, “Since now I owe Pinkey money, the least you can do is tell me how all this came about.”

Lee squeaks. 

“Karin,” Itachi says darkly, in the tone known for stopping S-Class Shinobi in their tracks. Karin simply flips her hair and finds new prey. 

“Or you could, Itachi-kun. You don’t write, you don’t call, and now I have to find out something this life altering from another? You wound me.” With a dramatic huff, Karin launches herself at Itachi and makes a grab for his forearm, no doubt to hang off of it ‘charmingly’. Itachi side-steps, but she unfortunately stays upright. 

“Why are you here?” Itachi says icily, carefully maneuvering Lee behind him. 

“I brought her,” Sakura says cheerfully from the doorway, a brightly-smiling Sarada in her arms and a clearly amused Sasuke at her back, “I called her in to help with the poison control. The least I could do was offer her a little vacation in Kohona. Plus, she needed to meet Sarada!”

“Oh, yes I did!” Karin squeals, entire demeanor changing at the sight of the newest Uchiha, “Aren’t you a precious little dumpling? Come to Auntie Karin!”

Sarada’s tiny lashes narrow and she glances over Sakura’s shoulder to her father. At his grave nod, the littlest Uchiha holds her arms out to Karin, every bit the regal princess offering a boon to her subject. 

While the women enthusiastically fawn over Sarada, Itachi turns to face Lee, careful to keep him mostly hidden from Karin. 

“I apologize,” Itachi says softly, “I let myself get distracted and I did not sense her approach.”

“It’s okay,” Lee squeaks, sounding suspiciously like he’s speaking through a tube. 

Although he is not pleased with the interruption, Itachi can’t help but feel Lee is far past displeased, and the observation brings a plethora of uncomfortable questions with it. 

“Are you upset that Sakura knows we are involved?” Itachi asks, clenching his fist so he doesn’t involuntarily reach for Lee, “I know that you once cared for her.”

A haze lifts from Lee’s eyes, and it’s not until it’s gone that Itachi realizes it ever existed. Lee straightens and clears his throat, “It’s true, I was once impressed with Sakura’s strength and dedication!” Itachi can’t help the way his body curves away from the other man’s, but Lee is not labeled a taijutsu master tritely, and Itachi finds his hand locked with Lee’s before he even registers movement from the other man, “But I only admired her. I did not understand the difference between admiration and love. They are both such youthful feelings!”

“They are,” Itachi agrees, chuckling warmly in response to Lee’s favorite adjective. 

“I worried that you did not want your family to know about us, but then I remembered…” Lee’s eyes dart nervously behind Itachi, no doubt fully aware they have an audience of shinobi for all that the others seem occupied, “What you said in my kitchen. I let un-youthful thoughts wound me!”

Itachi is grateful Lee understands subtlety, and moreso that the general public thinks he doesn’t. With its general proximity to the word “youthful”, his siblings may miss the allusion to a previous conversation. If he is lucky. 

“I am not ashamed of you,” Itachi says fiercely, squeezing Lee’s hand back hard enough to bruise a normal man. Lee leans in for a kiss, and for just a moment Itachi forgets about--

“Kami, they are adorable!” Karin yells, lifting Sarada high overhead next to a beaming Sakura, “Look at your Oji-san, Sarada! He’s a closet romantic!”

Behind them, Sasuke’s lone hand is plastered across his face like a makeshift mask. 

“Sakura,” Sasuke croaks, eyes screwed firmly shut, “We should leave.”

“Still so dramatic, Sasuke-kun,” Karin huffs, “You can go, but us ladies have a free show to watch!”

Lee goes back to squeaking and Itachi wonders, deep in the depths of his soul, how he ever thought he missed Karin.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the two-week wait rather than one. I had a very off eye injury that kept me off the computer for a bit. Luckily, they heal quickly!

“I have always hated you,” Itachi says evenly, low volume easily heard in the near-empty house. From somewhere in the kitchen, amongst extremely worrisome clangs and crashes, Karin cackles. 

“You haven’t and you don’t, I-ta-chi,” Karin croons, drawing his name out like a child’s playground taunting. 

“I was having a pleasant evening before you arrived and reminded me of the fact,” Itachi continues as if she hadn’t spoken. 

Karin pokes her head around the kitchen doorframe just far enough to pointedly wiggle her eyebrows, “I’ll say.” 

Stiffly, Itachi sips his now cold tea and ignores the Uzumaki. Lee’s cup rests, abandoned, within reach. The taijutsu master had fled with the other Uchiha’s nearly a half-hour before, a blurred mess of high-pitched squeaks and unnaturally fast flailing limbs. 

It was as endearing as it was worrisome. 

For that reason alone, while Itachi certainly does not hate Karin and she knows it, he can confess to being genuinely annoyed with the woman for the first time. Lee is surprisingly hard to get alone and unsurprisingly hard to subdue; their intimate moments are few and far between.

And a bit like the almost-second sister that she is, Karin reads him well enough to know his mood. Hence the dango she unceremoniously drops near Lee’s cup, almost breaking the porcelain in the process. 

The same headache that has threatened since the Uchiha Police Force was brought up the week prior looms its ugly head. 

“This looks…” Itachi lifts a piece of dango and subtly sniffs it, eyebrows reacting automatically in surprise, “Edible.”

Karin scowls, “Shut it, Uchiha. I’m not that bad of a cook.”

Itachi hums noncommittally, mood slightly lifted by both the treat and the familiar banter. 

“There’s not a lot to do in the stupid hideout, okay?” Karin says, entire countenance committed to her scowl, “I improved.”

Itachi’s throat tightens at the words. He will never forget the feeling she alludes to; the sensation of knowing nothing and no one will come to your aid if you call. For all the Karin has more friends than he did as a missing-nin, her day-to-day life is no less lonely. 

All his irritation fades. Cracks and rushes will all the severity and subtlety of a broken dam. He truly is going soft; if only his long-dead father could see him now. 

“Why do you stay?” Itachi asks, mindful that he’s approaching dangerous territory. An Uzumaki’s feelings are either freely given or jealously guarded; they feel with a severity that few can understand. He is fully aware this line of questioning puts even his grossly-talented life on the line. 

“Stay?” Karin asks shrilly, pointedly watching the dango on her own plate rather than Itachi. She knows he will not give up so easily.

“Stay alone. Konoha would certainly take you in, as both a friend of my family’s and a relative of their future Hokage. You have proven yourself valuable and trustworthy many times.”

Karin titters and nudges her glasses higher on her nose, clearly pleased with the honest praise, but her eyes are wary as ever. 

“Orochimaru--”

“Is a snake, figuratively and literally,” Itachi cuts in, uncharacteristically forward, “Your companions--the shark boy and the gentle one--are enough for him.”

Karin flushes, and for a brief moment, Itachi thinks he’s gone too far. Mourns the loss of his spotless house and violence-free month. But Karin’s shoulders droop rather than tense, and her voice is almost a whisper when she speaks, “I don’t know how to have a village.”

“Neither do it,” Itachi says honestly, firmly, “But we can learn.”

It is not in either of their natures to make an emotional fuss (for all the Karin pretends that it is), so when Karin announces she’s going to meet with the Hokage the next morning--challenge clear in the set of her jaws--Itachi follows without a word. 

\-----------

Itachi may not know how to be a model citizen; may struggle with clan laws and belonging, but there’s one man who never has, despite all his original status as an outsider: Naruto Uzumaki. 

And Naruto loves nothing more than family, chosen or given. Especially family members who can teach him something about his heritage. It is, therefore, a surprise to exactly nobody when Naruto catches wind of Karin’s intent, delays the inevitable to find his family and Itachi’s, and turns the fear-filled gesture into something rowdy and celebratory. 

“Look at your Onee-chan,” Naruto cheers, lofting Boruto high in the air, a tiny victory banner at the base of Hokage Tower. Karin growls but can’t hide her happy flush, adjusting the Konoha hitai around her neck self-consciously. 

“I’m not the brat’s Onee-anything,” Karin says, huffing. 

Naruto and his nine-month old son turn matching blue guilt-trips on Konoha's newest kunoichi. Sakura snickers and leans against a smirking Itachi while Sasuke and Sarada watch with matching considering gazes, morbidly fascinated. 

While the matching father-son duo are--as usual--hard to miss, Itachi knows who the true beholder of power in the Uzumaki clan is. Itachi needs only watch her for a moment before Hinata strikes. 

“You are a part of our clan, Karin-san,” Hinata says, sweetly and genuinely, her lavender eyes as innocently imploring as her boy’s. 

Predictably, Karin melts faster than an ice cube in Suna, “I guess I can claim the little one. He is kinda cute.” Naruto easily relinquishes Boruto to his reluctant clansmen with a blinding grin. 

“Gets it from his dad!”

Hinata cleared her throat gently, subtle as a summer breeze. It's a testament to their relationship that the normally oblivious Naruto catches on.

“And his beautiful mother, of course!” Naruto quickly course-corrects with a sheepish grin, “So beautiful.”

Hinata smiles and flushes a soft pink, a far cry from the bashful reactions of her youth, “Thank you, Naruto-kun.”

“How genuine,” Sasuke says sarcastically, pursing his lips in Naruto’s direction, “Watch how it's done, Dobe.”

Sasuke turns his most charming grin on his wife, who automatically removes her weight from Itachi to lean into her husband, “Sakura, you're glowing in the spring sunlight. Not even the petals you're named for rival your beauty; the only one who can is our daughter.”

Karin fans herself and whispers, “Hot damn,” over Sakura’s besotted sigh and Hinata’s startled squeal.

“Oh come on!” Naruto crows, “That was just as fake!” 

“Sore losers aren’t charming, Naruto,” Sakura says absentmindedly, attention firmly locked on her husband. Itachi will prod and tease his brother at a later date, but he is far too intelligent to invite himself into the current conversation. 

Sasuke huffs and hefts Sarada up, so the angelic face is pointed towards Naruto, cherubic in sleep, “I have two women to compliment, of course I'm better than you.”

“Otouto,” Itachi scolds, equal parts amused and exasperated, “Today is about Karin.”

“Oh no, don't let me stop you,” Karin says vehemently, waving one hand enthusiastically, “This is better than some crummy--”

Naruto cuts Karin off with an overly enthusiastic, “Itachi is right, of course! We've got to welcome you to the village! Come on, come on,” with all the subtlety of a raging bull, Naruto ushers his makeshift family into the nearest restaurant. 

Miraculously, it's not ramen.

\------------------------------------

“Nee-chan!” 

Itachi gently bounces Sarada as she glares at a crooning Boruto, free to watch the unfolding scene with amusement. 

At the foreign shout, Naruto squeaks and ducks into the nearest alley, dragging Sasuke with him by his lone arm. The Uchiha’s normally legendary reflexes fail to engage, and the last Itachi see’s of his brother is a swatch of dark hair and one startled, saucer-wide eye. 

Itachi sends one brief echo of amusement to Karin, hopeful that she can feel his mirth half a village away. She’d only parted with them a few blocks before, and she will be anything but pleased at missing….whatever it is Naruto and Sasuke are doing. 

At his elbow, Sakura spares one concerned glance after the boys before registering the owner of the shout, at which point she erupts into such sadistic snickers that even Itachi is a bit worried. 

“Hello, Hanabi,” Hinata calls back sweetly, completely unperturbed by her husband’s behavior, “Are you out for dinner?” Boruto flaps his pudgy hands excitedly at the sight of his aunt, his nine-month-old frame finally learning to obey him. 

Sarada burrows further into Itachi’s collarbone, displeased with the chaos. 

“I ate with my team,” Hanabi confirms, snatching Boruto from Hinata’s arms, “How’s my favorite nephew? Terrorizing daddy like I taught you?”

Hinata hides an amused smile in a polite cough, but valiantly keeps her gaze away from the alleyway holding her husband and his best friend, “Boruto-kun is very well behaved.”

“Ah,” Hanabi sighs, tickling Boruto’s pudgy belly until he howls with laughter, “We’ll fix that.”

“You were such a serious child,” Hinata says, and although the tone is meant to be regretful, Itachi can hear her clear relief at Hanabi’s personality change. 

“Thankfully we all grew up,” Sakura says, laughter finally slowing, “Congratulations on making Chuunin, Hanabi-chan.”

“Thank you, Sakura-san,” Hanabi says politely, and despite the fact that it’s hard to pinpoint a Hyuuga’s gaze, Itachi is beyond certain Hanabi’s have locked on him, “Itachi-sama. I’ve been looking for you.”

Such words from a young Chuunin should not invoke the terror that they do, but Itachi is well versed in both Hyuuga and clan heirs; they are a terrifying breed. Combine them, and he already regrets his acquaintance. 

“I hope I can offer assistance then, Hanabi-san,” Itachi says evenly, suddenly very glad his comfort-blanket of a niece is resting against his chest. 

“More like I can help you,” Hanabi says with a grin that promises something between burning fire and hell, “I have the names of two dozen clansmen who are interested in joining the Konoha Police Force.”

Sakura draws a sharp breath, and it’s not until that moment that Itachi realizes Sakura was in Suna during that particular meeting. 

“Hanabi-chan,” Sakura bites out, clearly reading to assume her full role as mother-bear to protect her brother-in-law, but Itachi shakes his head sharply and she stops with an angry huff. 

Despite the fact that he’d rather bury the idea than encourage it, Itachi smiles politely, “I received over a hundred texts from Akimichi-san and Hokage-sama. Assistance combing through them is welcome.” 

With just the barest downturn of lips at the side-step, Hanabi plays the part of future Hyuuga Clan Head well, “Perfect, Itachi-sama. I will send someone to collect them tomorrow.”

At Itachi’s deft nod, Hanabi kisses the top of Boruto’s head and hands him to a baffled Hinata, “Bye, Nee-san. I’ll try to visit soon.” With a mischievous aura and a taunt clear in her voice, Hanabi calls, “I don’t need my byakugan to see you, Naruto-nii! You’re as obvious as a Genin.”

At Naruto’s indignant squeal, even Itachi is amused. Sakura’s crossed arms and sternly set chin, however, promise that she is not.

\------------------------------------

Itachi is not proud to say that he runs from his sister-in-law rather than relive the conversation about the Konoha Police Force--tired from the tips of his sandals to the recesses of his soul of the topic--but nor would he deny it. 

Still, when Lee opens his apartment door with nothing but a smile on his lips, no questions or demands to be had, Itachi can’t find it within himself to be sorry at all.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so sorry for the months-long wait between chapters! I got a new job, moved, helped my parents move, got a new cousin...Ugh, basically I just had adult life and lots of things to do. It sucked, never grow up kids.
> 
> I'll try to get another chapter up ASAP, but I wanted to give you at least a little something for the long wait!

Three Months Later

“Chizu-san, Kami help me, if I have to tell you one more-”

“Sorry, Sakura-senpai!”

“Sakura-sama, there’s a Code Grey in the West Wing--”

“Where are my ANBU doctors?!”

“With patients, Senpai.”

“Do I have to do everything around--”

“Sakura-san, Tsunade-sama’s package is--”

“Step aside, Code Grey! Sakura-sama, we really must hurry!”

“Kami fucking--”

Itachi’s back hits the grainy hospital wall with a dull thud in his haste to steer clear of the multitude of nurses and doctors in the hall outside Sakura’s office. Next to him, Sasuke cradles Sarada close to his chest and locks her head in place with a hand behind her neck, as if she were three months again rather than eight. Her screech of rage at the manhandling is drowned out by the noise as Sakura is rushed past in a blur of frantic medical personnel. 

“Well,” Itachi says sardonically, “She may as well have never left.”

Predictably, Sasuke glowers, “Sakura is barely off maternity leave, why are they all yelling for her?”

“You married a medical prodigy,” Itachi reminds his brother with no small amount of amusement, “And one of the only medics alive allowed to be on the front lines. I believe a Code Grey is a violent patient--she is best equipped to handle the incident.”

Sasuke’s visage darkens further, “We should go check--”

“No,” Itachi cuts in smoothly, pointedly running his finger of his niece’s pudgy arm. She grins at him around the fist in her mouth, and Sasuke visibly softens in turn, “We should let your wife do her job and visit another day. Come, you can help at the station.”

“If we are done here, I should go to the tower,” Sasuke says primly, settling Sarada loosely on his hip now that the excitement has passed. 

“To do what?” Itachi asks, voice deliberately pitched so his judgement is pointed enough for Sasuke to pick up on, but not so pointed any passerby will. Sasuke spends most weekdays at the tower ‘working’, but Itachi has yet to see or hear any evidence that suggests he does anything other than harass his old teammates. Poor Kakashi is often stuck with both of his former male students as well as their offspring. Not that it’s any less trouble than he deserves.

“Shut up,” Sasuke says, stomping to the elevator and pushing the button with far more force than necessary, “Someone needs to help the Dobe learn.” Sarada--thrilled with her rapidly developing voice--keens her agreement. 

Itachi gently shoves his brother through the open metal doors with a private grin, “Yes, that someone is Kakashi-senpai.”

Sasuke scoffs, reddening, “Just go find your boyfriend; everyone at the station could use a break from your hovering anyway.”

“We’ll both go to our boyfriends.” 

Sasuke’s indignant squawk is as satisfying as Itachi expected. 

\-------------------------

“Lee,” Itachi calls softly, pushing the bright door to his boyfriend’s apartment open, “I brought takeout.” Faint counting reaches Itachi’s ears as the door shuts behind him, and the sound of evening training is almost as comforting to him as a hug would be to another. Yes, he may be going crazy. No, he doesn’t care. 

“Seven-forty-eight, seven-forty-nine, seven-fifty,” Lee chants as Itachi settles against the couch and fondly regards him. Lee’s taken to training in a pair of sweatpants--and only sweatpants--at home since the month before, when all his jumpsuits happened to be dirty and Itachi had stumbled upon him in this alternate dress. The resulting nosebleed is something they have both resolved to pretend never happened, but happily, Lee seems to have learned something from it nonetheless. 

“Do I smell curry?” Lee cheers, leaping to his feet and bounding the few steps to stand in front of Itachi. His boisterousness dims some as Itachi leans in and seals their lips together for a breath. 

“Hi,” Lee says shyly as they part, pinks tinting a fetching rose, “How was your day?”

“Better now,” Itachi responds, noting how cheesy he sounds for barely a moment. With the life he’s had, he figures he’s owed some cheesiness. 

Itachi settles his hand on Lee’s bare lower back and gently steers him towards the kitchen table, reveling in the damp skin beneath his palm. 

“Thank you for dinner, Itachi,” Lee says, all but leaping into his chair, “I know you were busy at work.”

It takes Itachi longer than it should to respond, and a great force of will to talk to Lee’s eyes rather than his pecs, “We are both busy, and we agreed to trade off on dinners. It is no trouble to do my part.”

Any guilt apparently absolved, Lee digs in with gusto. Itachi opens his meal more slowly, captivated with the way Lee’s neck undulates as he swallows. 

Itachi has never been a lust driven man--perhaps because of circumstances and perhaps because of temperament--the reason doesn’t matter, the fact does. He is by no means a virgin, but being around Lee lately makes him feel like one. A randy teenage virgin, at that. 

Which wouldn’t be a problem if he weren’t so new to the emotional aspect of a relationship, and what introducing sex means for Lee. Itachi has never been so unsure of how to approach a conversation in his life, which is a rather sad statement considering the things he’s done.

“Itachi.” 

The Uchiha snaps to attention, dragging his eyes from the spot on the wall he’d been glaring to submission to meet the concerned gaze of his boyfriend. 

“Are you okay? I called you a few times and you didn’t notice. You could’ve cancelled dinner-”

“No!” Itachi all but yells. Lee drops his chopsticks. 

“I mean,” Itachi says, composed, “I apologize, I was lost in thought.”

“Must’ve been very youthful to distract you so,” Lee says halfheartedly, picking his chopsticks back up but not moving his concerned gaze. 

“Yes, youthful…” Itachi murmurs. Somehow, in some odd, possibly psychologically damaging way, Gai’s favorite word is actually helpful in this instance. 

“Lee, I’ve realized something.”

The chopsticks get put down again, “Okay?”

“I wasn’t sure how to say this, but I’ve realized you appreciate a brave, honest approach over others.”

Lee’s bushy brows fold in on themselves until their resemble a writhing catapiller. 

“I want to have sex,” Itachi says boldly, clarifying just to be sure, “With you.” 

Lee startles so roughly the table cracks straight down the middle as his weighted arms flail.   
\-----------  
“Kaka-sensei?” Naruto asks, absentmindedly offering Boruto the handle of the kunai he’s holding. The teething tot immediately latches on as Sasuke watches the boy like a hawk. Just because the dobe’s an idiot, doesn’t mean Boruto should suffer. Plus, if Boruto gets hurt Hinata would be sad. Sasuke likes Hinata. 

“Yes?” Kakashi asks wearily, signing yet another D-rank report. 

“Did you hear that? It sounded like something may’ve exploded, or been hit.”

“Really?” Kakashi perks up, “Do you think we should-”

“Don’t move,” Iruka growls from behind the Hokage, arms crossed as if scolding a petulant child.

Kakashi sinks into his seat with a put-upon groan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think about the next Itachi/Lee moments. I've never written an explicit sex scene before, but if it's what the people want, I'm willing to give it a try :)


End file.
